r^ARY 

:    STY  Of     I 


UNDERfiRAD. 
LI6RAKT 


THE    COMPLETE    WRITINGS    OF 
NATHANIEL    HAWTHORNE 

WITH    PORTRAITS,    ILLUSTRATIONS,    AND    FACSIMILES 

IN   TWENTY-TWO    VOLUMES 
VOLUME    XV 


There  is  blood  on  that  threshold!™ 


THE 


HOUGHTON  M1FFLIN   COMPANY 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S 
SECRET 

A  ROMANCE 

BY 

NATHANIEL   HAWTHORNE 

EDITED,  WITH  PREFACE  AND  NOTES  BY 

JULIAN  HAWTHORNE 


BOSTON  AND  NEW  YORK 
HOUGHTON    MIFFLIN  COMPANY 
Cambridge 


MOFFITT-UGL 


COPYRIGHT,    1882   AND    1910,   BY  JULIAN  HAWTHORNE 

COPYRIGHT,   1900,  BY  HOUGHTON,    MIFFLIN  &  CO. 

ALL  RIGHTS   RESERVED 


1110 


TO 

MR.  AND  MRS.   GEORGE  PARSONS  LATHROP 

anfc 


OF 

NATHANIEL    HAWTHORNE 

THIS  ROMANCE  is  DEDICATED 

BY 
THE   EDITOR 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE 

A  PREFACE  generally  begins  with  a  truism;  and 
I  may  set  out  with  the  admission  that  it  is  not 
always  expedient  to  bring  to  light  the  posthu 
mous  work  of  great  writers.  A  man  generally 
contrives  to  publish,  during  his  lifetime,  quite  as 
much  as  the  public  has  time  or  inclination  to 
read ;  and  his  surviving  friends  are  apt  to  show 
more  zeal  than  discretion  in  dragging  forth  from 
his  closed  desk  such  undeveloped  offspring  of 
his  mind  as  he  himself  had  left  to  silence.  Lit 
erature  has  never  been  redundant  with  authors 
who  sincerely  undervalue  their  own  productions; 
and  the  sagacious  critics  who  maintain  that 
what  of  his  own  an  author  condemns  must  be 
doubly  damnable,  are,  to  say  the  least  of  it,  as 
often  likely  to  be  right  as  wrong. 

Beyond  these  general  remarks,  however,  it 
does  not  seem  necessary  to  adopt  an  apologetic 
attitude.  There  is  nothing  in  the  present  vol 
ume  which  any  one  possessed  of  brains  and 
cultivation  will  not  be  thankful  to  read.  The 
appreciation  of  Nathaniel  Hawthorne's  writings 
is  more  intelligent  and  widespread  than  it  used 
to  be  ;  and  the  later  development  of  our  national 
literature  has  not,  perhaps,  so  entirely  exhausted 


vn 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

our  resources  of  admiration  as  to  leave  no  wel 
come  for  even  the  less  elaborate  work  of  a 
contemporary  of  Dickens  and  Thackeray.  As 
regards  Doctor  Grimshawes  Secret :,  —  the  title 
which,  for  lack  of  a  better,  has  been  given  to 
this  Romance,  —  it  can  scarcely  be  pronounced 
deficient  in  either  elaboration  or  profundity. 
Had  Mr.  Hawthorne  written  out  the  story  in 
every  part  to  its  full  dimensions,  it  could  not 
have  failed  to  rank  among  the  greatest  of  his 
productions.  He  had  looked  forward  to  it  as 
to  the  crowning  achievement  of  his  literary  career. 
In  the  Preface  to  Our  Old  Home  he  alludes  to 
it  as  a  work  into  which  he  proposed  to  convey 
more  of  various  modes  of  truth  than  he  could 
have  grasped  by  a  direct  effort.  But  circum 
stances  prevented  him  from  perfecting  the  de 
sign  which  had  been  before  his  mind  for  seven 
years,  and  upon  the  shaping  of  which  he  be 
stowed  more  thought  and  labor  than  upon  any 
thing  else  he  had  undertaken.  The  successive 
and  consecutive  series  of  notes  or  studies1  which 
he  wrote  for  this  Romance  would  of  themselves 
make  a  small  volume,  and  one  of  autobiogra 
phical  as  well  as  literary  interest.  There  is  no 

1  These  studies,  extracts  from  which  will  be  published  in  one  of  our  maga 
zines,  are  hereafter  to  be  added,  in  their  complete  form,  to  the  Appendix  of 
this  volume.  [The  studies,  thus  referred  to,  have  appeared  thus  far  in  the 
Century  Magazine  for  January,  1883,  under  the  title  "  A  Look  into  Haw 
thorne's  Workshop,"  and  in  Lippincotf  s  Magazine  for  January,  1890, 
under  the  title  "The  Elixir  of  Life."] 

viii 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE 

other  instance,  that  I  happen  to  have  met  with, 
in  which  a  writer's  thought  reflects  itself  upon 
paper  so  immediately  and  sensitively  as  in  these 
studies.  To  read  them  is  to  look  into  the  man's 
mind,  and  see  its  quality  and  action.  The  pen 
etration,  the  subtlety,  the  tenacity ;  the  stubborn 
gripe  which  he  lays  upon  his  subject,  like  that 
of  Hercules  upon  the  slippery  Old  Man  of  the 
Sea  ;  the  clear  and  cool  common-sense,  controll 
ing  the  audacity  of  a  rich  and  ardent  imagina 
tion  ;  the  humorous  gibes  and  strange  expletives 
wherewith  he  ridicules,  to  himself,  his  own  fail 
ure  to  reach  his  goal;  the  immense  patience 
with  which  —  again  and  again,  and  yet  again 
—  he  "  tries  back,"  throwing  the  topic  into  fresh 
attitudes,  and  searching  it  to  the  marrow  with  a 
gaze  so  piercing  as  to  be  terrible  ;  —  all  this 
gives  an  impression  of  power,  of  resource,  of 
energy,  of  mastery,  that  exhilarates  the  reader. 
So  many  inspired  prophets  of  Hawthorne  have 
arisen  of  late,  that  the  present  writer,  whose 
relation  to  the  great  Romancer  is  a  filial  one 
merely,  may  be  excused  for  feeling  some  em 
barrassment  in  submitting  his  own  uninstructed 
judgments  to  competition  with  theirs.  It  has 
occurred  to  him,  however,  that  these  undress 
rehearsals  of  the  author  of  The  Scarlet  Letter 
might  afford  entertaining  and  even  profitable 
reading  to  the  later  generation  of  writers  whose 
pleasant  fortune  it  is  to  charm  one  another  and 

ix 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

other  matter.  It  lacks  balance  and  proportion. 
Some  characters  and  incidents  are  portrayed 
with  minute  elaboration  ;  others,  perhaps  not 
less  important,  are  merely  sketched  in  outline. 
Beyond  a  doubt  it  was  the  author's  purpose  to 
rewrite  the  entire  work  from  the  first  page  to 
the  last,  enlarging  it,  deepening  it,  adorning  it 
with  every  kind  of  spiritual  and  physical  beauty, 
and  rounding  out  a  moral  worthy  of  the  noble 
materials.  But  these  last  transfiguring  touches 
to  Aladdin's  Tower  were  never  to  be  given  ; 
and  he  has  departed,  taking  with  him  his  Won 
derful  Lamp.  Nevertheless  there  is  great  splen 
dor  in  the  structure  as  we  behold  it.  The 
character  of  old  Doctor  Grimshawe,  and  the 
picture  of  his  surroundings,  are  hardly  sur 
passed  in  vigor  by  anything  their  author  has 
produced  ;  and  the  dusky  vision  of  the  secret 
chamber,  which  sends  a  mysterious  shiver 
through  the  tale,  seems  to  be  unique  even  in 
Hawthorne. 

There  have  been  included  in  this  volume 
photographic  reproductions  of  certain  pages  of 
the  original  manuscript  of  Doctor  Grimshawey 
selected  at  random,  upon  which  those  ingenious 
persons  whose  convictions  are  in  advance  of 
their  instruction  are  cordially  invited  to  try  their 
teeth ;  for  it  has  been  maintained  that  Mr. 
Hawthorne's  handwriting  was  singularly  legible. 
xii 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE 

The  present  writer  possesses  specimens  of  Mr. 
Hawthorne's  chirography  at  various  ages,  from 
boyhood  until  a  day  or  two  before  his  death. 
Like  the  handwriting  of  most  men,  it  was  at  its 
best  between  the  twenty-fifth  and  the  fortieth 
years  of  life ;  and  in  some  instances  it  is  a  re 
markably  beautiful  type  of  penmanship.  But 
as  time  went  on  it  deteriorated,  and,  while  of 
course  retaining  its  elementary  characteristics,  it 
became  less  and  less  easy  to  read,  especially  in 
those  writings  which  were  intended  solely  for  his 
own  perusal.  As  with  other  men  of  sensitive 
organization,  the  mood  of  the  hour,  a  good  or 
a  bad  pen,  a  ready  or  an  obstructed  flow  of 
thought,  would  all  be  reflected  in  the  formation 
of  the  written  letters  and  words.  In  the  manu 
script  of  the  fragmentary  sketch  which  has  just 
been  published  in  a  magazine,  which  is  written 
in  an  ordinary  commonplace  book,  with  ruled 
pages,  and  in  which  the  author  had  not  yet  be 
come  possessed  with  the  spirit  of  the  story  and 
characters,  the  handwriting  is  deliberate  and 
clear.  In  the  manuscript  of  Doctor  Grimshawes 
Secret^  on  the  other  hand,  which  was  written 
almost  immediately  after  the  other,  but  on  un 
ruled  paper,  and  when  the  writer's  imagination 
was  warm  and  eager,  the  chirography  is  for  the 
most  part  a  compact  mass  of  minute  cramped 
hieroglyphics,  hardly  to  be  deciphered  save  by 
xiii 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

flashes  of  inspiration.  The  matter  is  not,  in 
itself,  of  importance,  and  is  alluded  to  here 
only  as  having  been  brought  forward  in  con 
nection  with  other  insinuations,  with  the  notice 
of  which  it  seems  unnecessary  to  soil  these 
pages.  Indeed,  were  I  otherwise  disposed,  Doc 
tor  Grimshawe  himself  would  take  the  words 
out  of  my  mouth;  his  speech  is  far  more  poign 
ant  and  eloquent  than  mine.  In  dismissing 
this  episode,  I  will  take  the  liberty  to  observe 
that  it  appears  to  indicate  a  spirit  in  our  age 
less  sceptical  than  is  commonly  supposed, — 
belief  in  miracles  being  still  possible,  provided 
only  the  miracle  be  a  scandalous  one. 

It  remains  to  tell  how  this  Romance  came  to 
be  published.  It  came  into  my  possession  (in 
the  ordinary  course  of  events)  about  eight  years 
ago.  I  had  at  that  time  no  intention  of  pub 
lishing  it ;  and  when,  soon  after,  I  left  England 
to  travel  on  the  Continent,  the  manuscript,  to 
gether  with  the  bulk  of  my  library,  was  packed 
and  stored  at  a  London  repository,  and  was  not 
again  seen  by  me  until  last  summer,  when  I 
unpacked  it  in  this  city.  I  then  finished  the 
perusal  of  it,  and,  finding  it  to  be  practically 
complete,  I  re-resolved  to  print  it  in  connection 
with  a  biography  of  Mr.  Hawthorne  which  I 
had  in  preparation.  But  upon  further  consid 
eration  it  was  decided  to  publish  the  Romance 
xiv 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE 

separately;  and  I  herewith  present  it  to  the 
public,  with  my  best  wishes  for  their  edifica 
tion. 

JULIAN  HAWTHORNE. 

NEW  YORK,  November  21,  1882. 
XV 


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LIST  OF   ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

u  THERE  is  BLOOD  ON  THAT  THRESHOLD  !  " 
(page  309)    ....      Frederick  McCormick 

Frontispiece 
VIGNETTE  ON  ENGRAVED  TITLE-PAGE 

Frederick  McCormick 

FACSIMILE  OF  PAGES  OF  THE  ORIGINAL  MS.       xvi 
"THERE  HE  GOES,  THE  OLD  SPIDER- WITCH  !" 

Frederick  McCormick       56 
LEAVING  THE   HOUSE      .     Frederick  McCormick     132, 

"  WE    HAVE    RECOGNIZED    EACH    OTHER  " 

Frederick  McCormick     312 

IN    HALF    FROLIC    RfiDCLYFFE    TOOK    THE    CHAIR 

Frederick  McCormick     356 


DOCTOR    GRIMSHAWE'S 
SECRET 

CHAPTER    I 

ALONG  time  ago,1  in  a  town  with  which 
I  used  to  be  familiarly  acquainted,  there 
dwelt  an  elderly  person  of  grim  aspect, 
known  by  the  name  and  title  of  Doctor  Grim- 
shawe,2  whose  household  consisted  of  a  remark 
ably  pretty  and  vivacious  boy,  and  a  perfect 
rosebud  of  a  girl,  two  or  three  years  younger 
than  he,  and  an  old  maid  of  all  work,  of 
strangely  mixed  breed,  crusty  in  temper  and 
wonderfully  sluttish  in  attire.3  It  might  be 
partly  owing  to  this  handmaiden's  characteristic 
lack  of  neatness  (though  primarily,  no  doubt, 
to  the  grim  Doctor's  antipathy  to  broom,  brush, 
and  dusting  cloths)  that  the  house  —  at  least  in 
such  portions  of  it  as  any  casual  visitor  caught 
a  glimpse  of —  was  so  overlaid  with  dust,  that, 
in  lack  of  a  visiting  card,  you  might  write  your 
name  with  your  forefinger  upon  the  tables  ;  and 
so  hung  with  cobwebs,  that  they  assumed  the 
appearance  of  dusky  upholstery. 

It  grieves  me  to  add  an  additional  touch  or 
i 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

two  to  the  reader's  disagreeable  impression  of 
Doctor  Grimshawe's  residence,  by  confessing 
that  it  stood  in  a  shabby  by-street,  and  cornered 
on  a  graveyard,  with  which  the  house  commu 
nicated  by  a  back  door ;  so  that  with  a  hop, 
skip,  and  jump  from  the  threshold,  across  a  flat 
tombstone,  the  two  children 4  were  in  the  daily 
habit  of  using  the  dismal  cemetery  as  their 
playground.  In  their  graver  moods  they  spelled 
out  the  names  and  learned  by  heart  doleful 
verses  on  the  headstones ;  and  in  their  merrier 
ones  (which  were  much  the  more  frequent) 
they  chased  butterflies  and  gathered  dandelions, 
played  hide  and  seek  among  the  slate  and 
marble,  and  tumbled  laughing  over  the  grassy 
mounds  which  were  too  eminent  for  the  short 
legs  to  bestride.  On  the  whole,  they  were  the 
better  for  the  graveyard,  and  its  legitimate  in 
mates  slept  none  the  worse  for  the  two  chil 
dren's  gambols  and  shrill  merriment  overhead. 
Here  were  old  brick  tombs  with  curious  sculp 
tures  on  them,  and  quaint  gravestones,  some  of 
which  bore  puffy  little  cherubs,  and  one  or  two 
others  the  effigies  of  eminent  Puritans,  wrought 
out  to  a  button,  a  fold  of  the  ruff,  and  a  wrinkle 
of  the  skullcap  ;  and  these  frowned  upon  the 
two  children  as  if  death  had  not  made  them  a 
whit  more  genial  than  they  were  in  life.  But 
the  children  were  of  a  temper  to  be  more  en 
couraged  by  the  good-natured  smiles  of  the 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

puffy  cherubs,  than  frightened  or  disturbed  by 
the  sour  Puritans. 

This  graveyard  (about  which  we  shall  say  not 
a  word  more  than  may  sooner  or  later  be  need 
ful)  was  the  most  ancient  in  the  town.  The 
clay  of  the  original  settlers  had  been  incor 
porated  with  the  soil ;  those  stalwart  English 
men  of  the  Puritan  epoch,  whose  immediate 
ancestors  had  been  planted  forth  with  succulent 
grass  and  daisies  for  the  sustenance  of  the  par 
son's  cow,  round  the  low-battlemented  Norman 
church  towers  in  the  villages  of  the  fatherland, 
had  here  contributed  their  rich  Saxon  mould  to 
tame  and  Christianize  the  wild  forest  earth  of 
the  New  World.  In  this  point  of  view  —  as 
holding  the  bones  and  dust  of  the  primeval  an 
cestor —  the  cemetery  was  more  English  than 
anything  else  in  the  neighborhood,  and  might 
probably  have  nourished  English  oaks  and  Eng 
lish  elms,  and  whatever  else  is  of  English 
growth,  without  that  tendency  to  spindle  up 
wards  and  lose  their  sturdy  breadth,  which  is 
said  to  be  the  ordinary  characteristic  both  of 
human  and  vegetable  productions  when  trans 
planted  hither.  Here,  at  all  events,  used  to 
be  some  specimens  of  common  English  garden 
flowers,  which  could  not  be  accounted  for,  — 
unless,  perhaps,  they  had  sprung  from  some 
English  maiden's  heart,  where  the  intense  love 
of  those  homely  things,  and  regret  of  them  in 

3 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

the  foreign  land,  had  conspired  together  to  keep 
their  vivifying  principle,  and  cause  its  growth 
after  the  poor  girl  was  buried.  Be  that  as  it 
might,  in  this  grave  had  been  hidden  from  sight 
many  a  broad,  bluff  visage  of  husbandman,  who 
had  been  taught  to  plough  among  the  heredi 
tary  furrows  that  had  been  ameliorated  by  the 
crumble  of  ages  :  much  had  these  sturdy  la 
borers  grumbled  at  the  great  roots  that  ob 
structed  their  toil  in  these  fresh  acres.  Here, 
too,  the  sods  had  covered  the  faces  of  men 
known  to  history,  and  reverenced  when  not  a 
piece  of  distinguishable  dust  remained  of  them  ; 
personages  whom  tradition  told  about ;  and 
here,  mixed  up  with  successive  crops  of  native- 
born  Americans,  had  been  ministers,  captains, 
matrons,  virgins  good  and  evil,  tough  and  ten 
der,  turned  up  and  battened  down  by  the  sex 
ton's  spade,  over  and  over  again ;  until  every 
blade  of  grass  had  its  relations  with  the  human 
brotherhood  of  the  old  town.  A  hundred  and 
fifty  years  was  sufficient  to  do  this  ;  and  so  much 
time,  at  least,  had  elapsed  since  the  first  hole 
was  dug  among  the  difficult  roots  of  the  forest 
trees,  and  the  first  little  hillock  of  all  these  green 
beds  was  piled  up. 

Thus  rippled  and  surged,  with  its  hundreds 
of  little  billows,  the  old  graveyard  about  the 
house  which  cornered  upon  it ;  it  made  the 
street  gloomy,  so  that  people  did  not  altogether 

4 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

like  to  pass  along  the  high  wooden  fence  that 
shut  it  in ;  and  the  old  house  itself,  covering 
ground  which  else  had  been  sown  thickly  with 
buried  bodies,  partook  of  its  dreariness,  be 
cause  it  seemed  hardly  possible  that  the  dead 
people  should  not  get  up  out  of  their  graves 
and  steal  in  to  warm  themselves  at  this  con 
venient  fireside.  But  I  never  heard  that  any  of 
them  did  so  ;  nor  were  the  children  ever  startled 
by  spectacles  of  dim  horror  in  the  night-time, 
but  were  as  cheerful  and  fearless  as  if  no  grave 
had  ever  been  dug.  They  were  of  that  class  of 
children  whose  material  seems  fresh,  not  taken 
at  second  hand,  full  of  disease,  conceits,  whims, 
and  weaknesses,  that  have  already  served  many 
people's  turns,  and  been  moulded  up,  with  some 
little  change  of  combination,  to  serve  the  turn 
of  some  poor  spirit  that  could  not  get  a  better 
case. 

So  far  as  ever  came  to  the  present  writer's 
knowledge,  there  was  no  whisper  of  Doctor 
Grimshawe's  house  being  haunted  ;  a  fact  on 
which  both  writer  and  reader  may  congratulate 
themselves,  the  ghostly  chord  having  been  played 
upon  in  these  days  until  it  has  become  weari 
some  and  nauseous  as  the  familiar  tune  of  a  bar 
rel  organ.  The  house  itself,  moreover,  except 
for  the  convenience  of  its  position  close  to  the 
seldom  disturbed  cemetery,  was  hardly  worthy 
to  be  haunted.  As  I  remember  it  (and  for 

5 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

aught  I  know  it  still  exists  in  the  same  guise), 
it  did  not  appear  to  be  an  ancient  structure,  nor 
one  that  would  ever  have  been  the  abode  of  a 
very  wealthy  or  prominent  family  ;  —  a  three- 
story  wooden  house,  perhaps  a  century  old,  low- 
studded,  with  a  square  front,  standing  right 
upon  the  street,  and  a  small  enclosed  porch,  con 
taining  the  main  entrance,  affording  a  glimpse 
up  and  down  the  street  through  an  oval  window 
on  each  side,  its  characteristic  was  decent  re 
spectability,  not  sinking  below  the  boundary  of 
the  genteel.  It  has  often  perplexed  my  mind 
to  conjecture  what  sort  of  man  he  could  have 
been  who,  having  the  means  to  build  a  pretty, 
spacious,  and  comfortable  residence,  should  have 
chosen  to  lay  its  foundation  on  the  brink  of  so 
many  graves  ;  each  tenant  of  these  narrow  houses 
crying  out,  as  it  were,  against  the  absurdity  of 
bestowing  much  time  or  pains  in  preparing  any 
earthly  tabernacle  save  such  as  theirs.  But  de 
ceased  people  see  matters  from  an  erroneous  — 
at  least  too  exclusive  —  point  of  view  ;  a  com 
fortable  grave  is  an  excellent  possession  for  those 
who  need  it,  but  a  comfortable  house  has  like 
wise  its  merits  and  temporary  advantages.5 

The  founder  of  the  house  in  question  seemed 
sensible  of  this  truth,  and  had  therefore  been  care 
ful  to  lay  out  a  sufficient  number  of  rooms  and 
chambers,  low,  ill  lighted,  ugly,  but  not  unsus 
ceptible  of  warmth  and  comfort ;  the  sunniest 

6 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

and  cheerfulest  of  which  were  on  the  side  that 
looked  into  the  graveyard.  Of  these,  the  one 
most  spacious  and  convenient  had  been  selected 
by  Doctor  Grimshawe  as  a  study,  and  fitted  up 
with  bookshelves,  and  various  machines  and 
contrivances,  electrical,  chemical,  and  distilla 
tory,  wherewith  he  might  pursue  such  researches 
as  were  wont  to  engage  his  attention.  The  great 
result  of  the  grim  Doctor's  labors,  so  far  as 
known  to  the  public,  was  a  certain  preparation 
or  extract  of  cobwebs,  which,  out  of  a  great  abun 
dance  of  material,  he  was  able  to  produce  in  any 
desirable  quantity,  and  by  the  administration 
of  which  he  professed  to  cure  diseases  of  the 
inflammatory  class,  and  to  work  very  wonderful 
effects  upon  the  human  system.  It  is  a  great 
pity,  for  the  good  of  mankind  and  the  advantage 
of  his  own  fortunes,  that  he  did  not  put  forth 
this  medicine  in  pill  boxes  or  bottles,  and  then, 
as  it  were,  by  some  captivating  title,  inveigle 
the  public  into  his  spider's  web,  and  suck  out 
its  gold  substance,  and  himself  wax  fat  as  he  sat 
in  the  central  intricacy. 

But  grim  Doctor  Grimshawe,  though  his  aim 
in  life  might  be  no  very  exalted  one,  seemed  sin 
gularly  destitute  of  the  impulse  to  better  his 
fortunes  by  the  exercise  of  his  wits  :  it  might 
even  have  been  supposed,  indeed,  that  he  had 
a  conscientious  principle  or  religious  scruple — • 
only,  he  was  by  no  means  a  religious  man — • 

7 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

against  reaping  profit  from  this  particular  nos 
trum  which  he  was  said  to  have  invented.  He 
never  sold  it ;  never  prescribed  it,  unless  in 
cases  selected  on  some  principle  that  nobody 
could  detect  or  explain.  The  grim  Doctor,  it 
must  be  observed,  was  not  generally  acknow 
ledged  by  the  profession,  with  whom,  in  truth, 
he  had  never  claimed  a  fellowship ;  nor  had  he 
ever  assumed  of  his  own  accord  the  medical  title 
by  which  the  public  chose  to  know  him.  His 
professional  practice  seemed,  in  a  sort,  forced 
upon  him  ;  it  grew  pretty  extensive,  partly  be 
cause  it  was  understood  to  be  a  matter  of  favor 
and  difficulty,  dependent  on  a  capricious  will,  to 
obtain  his  services  at  all.  There  was  unques 
tionably  an  odor  of  quackery  about  him;  but 
by  no  means  of  an  ordinary  kind.  A  sort  of 
mystery  —  yet  which,  perhaps,  need  not  have 
been  a  mystery,  had  any  one  thought  it  worth 
while  to  make  systematic  inquiry  in  reference 
to  his  previous  life,  his  education,  even  his  na 
tive  land  —  assisted  the  impression  which  his 
peculiarities  were  calculated  to  make.  He  was 
evidently  not  a  New  Englander,  nor  a  native 
of  any  part  of  these  Western  shores.  His 
speech  was  apt  to  be  oddly  and  uncouthly  idio 
matic,  and  even  when  classical  in  its  form  was 
emitted  with  a  strange,  rough  depth  of  utter 
ance,  that  came  from  recesses  of  the  lungs  which 
we  Yankees  seldom  put  to  any  use.  In  person, 

8 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

he  did  not  look  like  one  of  us  :  a  broad,  rather 
short  personage,  with  a  projecting  forehead,  a 
red,  irregular  face,  and  a  squab  nose  ;  eyes  that 
looked  dull  enough  in  their  ordinary  state,  but 
had  a  faculty,  in  conjunction  with  the  other 
features,  which  those  who  had  ever  seen  it  de 
scribed  as  especially  ugly  and  awful.  As  re 
garded  dress,  Doctor  Grimshawe  had  a  rough 
and  careless  exterior,  and  altogether  a  shaggy 
kind  of  aspect,  the  effect  of  which  was  much  in 
creased  by  a  reddish  beard,  which,  contrary  to 
the  usual  custom  of  the  day,  he  allowed  to  grow 
profusely,  and  the  wiry  perversity  of  which 
seemed  to  know  as  little  of  the  comb  as  of  the 
razor. 

We  began  with  calling  the  grim  Doctor  an 
elderly  personage ;  but  in  so  doing  we  looked 
at  him  through  the  eyes  of  the  two  children, 
who  were  his  intimates,  and  who  had  not  learnt 
to  decipher  the  purport  and  value  of  his  wrin 
kles  and  furrows  and  corrugations,  whether  as 
indicating  age,  or  a  different  kind  of  wear  and 
tear.  Possibly  —  he  seemed  so  aggressive  and 
had  such  latent  heat  and  force  to  throw  out 
when  occasion  called  —  he  might  scarcely  have 
seemed  middle-aged ;  though  here  again  we 
hesitate,  finding  him  so  stiffened  in  his  own 
way,  so  little  fluid,  so  encrusted  with  passions 
and  humors,  that  he  must  have  left  his  youth 
very  far  behind  him,  if  indeed  he  ever  had  any. 

9 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

The  patients,  or  whatever  other  visitors  were 
ever  admitted  into  the  Doctor's  study,  carried 
abroad  strange  accounts  of  the  squalor  of  dust 
and  cobwebs  in  which  the  learned  and  scientific 
person  lived ;  and  the  dust,  they  averred,  was 
all  the  more  disagreeable,  because  it  could  not 
well  be  other  than  dead  men's  almost  intangi 
ble  atoms,  resurrected  from  the  adjoining  grave 
yard.  As  for  the  cobwebs,  they  were  no  signs 
of  housewifely  neglect  on  the  part  of  crusty 
Hannah,  the  handmaiden ;  but  the  Doctor's 
scientific  material,  carefully  encouraged  and  pre 
served,  each  filmy  thread  more  valuable  to  him 
than  so  much  golden  wire.  Of  all  barbarous 
haunts  in  Christendom  or  elsewhere,  this  study 
was  the  one  most  overrun  with  spiders.  They 
dangled  from  the  ceiling,  crept  upon  the  tables, 
lurked  in  the  corners,  and  wove  the  intricacy  of 
their  webs  wherever  they  could  hitch  the  end 
from  point  to  point  across  the  window  panes, 
and  even  across  the  upper  part  of  the  doorway, 
and  in  the  chimney  place.  It  seemed  impos 
sible  to  move  without  breaking  some  of  these 
mystic  threads.  Spiders  crept  familiarly  towards 
you  and  walked  leisurely  across  your  hands ; 
these  were  their  precincts,  and  you  only  an  in 
truder.  If  you  had  none  about  your  person, 
yet  you  had  an  odious  sense  of  one  crawling  up 
your  spine,  or  spinning  cobwebs  in  your  brain, 

10 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

—  so  pervaded  was  the  atmosphere  of  the  place 
with  spider  life.  What  they  fed  upon  (for  all 
the  flies  for  miles  about  would  not  have  sufficed 
them)  was  a  secret  known  only  to  the  Doctor. 
Whence  they  came  was  another  riddle ;  though, 
from  certain  inquiries  and  transactions  of  Doc 
tor  Grimshawe's  with  some  of  the  shipmasters 
of  the  port,  who  followed  the  East  and  West 
Indian,  the  African  and  the  South  American 
trade,  it  was  supposed  that  this  odd  philosopher 
was  in  the  habit  of  importing  choice  monstrosi 
ties  in  the  spider  kind  from  all  those  tropic 
regions.6 

All  the  above  description,  exaggerated  as  it 
may  seem,  is  merely  preliminary  to  the  intro 
duction  of  one  single  enormous  spider,  the  big 
gest  and  ugliest  ever  seen,  the  pride  of  the  grim 
Doctor's  heart,  his  treasure,  his  glory,  the  pearl 
of  his  soul,  and,  as  many  people  said,  the 
demon  to  whom  he  had  sold  his  salvation,  on 
condition  of  possessing  the  web  of  the  foul 
creature  for  a  certain  number  of  years.  The 
grim  Doctor,  according  to  this  theory,  was  but 
a  great  fly  which  this  spider  had  subtly  entan 
gled  in  his  web.  But,  in  truth,  naturalists  are 
acquainted  with  this  spider,  though  it  is  a  rare 
one ;  the  British  Museum  has  a  specimen,  and, 
doubtless,  so  have  many  other  scientific  institu 
tions.  It  is  found  in  South  America  ;  its  most 

ii 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

hideous  spread  of  legs  covers  a  space  nearly  as 
large  as  a  dinner  plate,  and  radiates  from  a  body 
as  big  as  a  door-knob,  which  one  conceives  to 
be  an  agglomeration  of  sucked-up  poison  which 
the  creature  treasures  through  life ;  probably  to 
expend  it  all,  and  life  itself,  on  some  worthy 
foe.  Its  colors,  variegated  in  a  sort  of  ugly 
and  inauspicious  splendor,  were  distributed  over 
its  vast  bulb  in  great  spots,  some  of  which  glis 
tened  like  gems.  It  was  a  horror  to  think  of 
this  thing  living ;  still  more  horrible  to  think 
of  the  foul  catastrophe,  the  crushed-out  and 
wasted  poison,  that  would  follow  the  casual  set 
ting  foot  upon  it. 

No  doubt,  the  lapse  of  time  since  the  Doc 
tor  and  his  spider  lived  has  already  been  suf 
ficient  to  cause  a  traditionary  wonderment  to 
gather  over  them  both ;  and,  especially,  this 
image  of  the  spider  dangles  down  to  us  from 
the  dusky  ceiling  of  the  Past,  swollen  into 
somewhat  uglier  and  huger  monstrosity  than  he 
actually  possessed.  Nevertheless,  the  creature 
had  a  real  existence,  and  has  left  kindred  like 
himself;  but  as  for  the  Doctor,  nothing  could 
exceed  the  value  which  he  seemed  to  put  upon 
him,  the  sacrifices  he  made  for  the  creature's 
convenience,  or  the  readiness  with  which  he 
adapted  his  whole  mode  of  life,  apparently,  so 
that  the  spider  might  enjoy  the  conditions  best 
suited  to  his  tastes,  habits,  and  health.  And 

12 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

yet  there  were  sometimes  tokens  that  made  peo 
ple  imagine  that  he  hated  the  infernal  creature 
as  much  as  everybody  else  who  caught  a  glimpse 
of  him.7 


CHAPTER  II 

CONSIDERING  that  Doctor  Grim 
shawe,  when  we  first  look  upon  him, 
had  dwelt  only  a  few  years  in  the  house 
by  the  graveyard,  it  is  wonderful  what  an  ap 
pearance  he,  and  his  furniture,  and  his  cobwebs, 
and  their  unweariable  spinners,  and  crusty  old 
Hannah,  all  had  of  having  permanently  at 
tached  themselves  to  the  locality.  For  a  cen 
tury,  at  least,  it  might  be  fancied  that  the  study 
in  particular  had  existed  just  as  it  was  now ; 
with  those  dusky  festoons  of  spider  silk  hang 
ing  along  the  walls,  those  bookcases  with  vol 
umes  turning  their  parchment  or  black-leather 
backs  upon  you,  those  machines  and  engines, 
that  table,  and  at  it  the  Doctor,  in  a  very  faded 
and  shabby  dressing  gown,  smoking  a  long  clay 
pipe,  the  powerful  fumes  of  which  dwelt  con 
tinually  in  his  reddish  and  grisly  beard,  and 
made  him  fragrant  wherever  he  went.  This 
sense  of  fixedness  — stony  intractability — seems 
to  belong  to  people  who,  instead  of  hope,  which 
exalts  everything  into  an  airy,  gaseous  exhilara 
tion,  have  a  fixed  and  dogged  purpose,  around 
which  everything  congeals  and  crystallizes.1 
Even  the  sunshine,  dim  through  the  dustiness 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

of  the  two  casements  that  looked  upon  the 
graveyard,  and  the  smoke,  as  it  came  warm  out 
of  Doctor  Grimshawe's  mouth,  seemed  already 
stale.  But  if  the  two  children,  or  either  of 
them,  happened  to  be  in  the  study,  —  if  they 
ran  to  open  the  door  at  the  knock,  if  they  came 
scampering  and  peeped  down  over  the  banis 
ters,  —  the  sordid  and  rusty  gloom  was  apt  to 
vanish  quite  away.  The  sunbeam  itself  looked 
like  a  golden  rule,  that  had  been  flung  down 
long  ago,  and  had  lain  there  till  it  was  dusty 
and  tarnished.  They  were  cheery  little  imps, 
who  sucked  up  fragrance  and  pleasantness  out 
of  their  surroundings,  dreary  as  these  looked ; 
even  as  a  flower  can  find  its  proper  perfume  in 
any  soil  where  its  seed  happens  to  fall.  The 
great  spider,  hanging  by  his  cordage  over  the 
Doctor's  head,  and  waving  slowly,  like  a  pen 
dulum,  in  a  blast  from  the  crack  of  the  door, 
must  have  made  millions  and  millions  of  pre 
cisely  such  vibrations  as  these  ;  but  the  children 
were  new,  and  made  over  every  day,  with  yes 
terday's  weariness  left  out. 

The  little  girl,  however,  was  the  merrier  of 
the  two.  It  was  quite  unintelligible,  in  view 
of  the  little  care  that  crusty  Hannah  took  of 
her,  and,  moreover,  since  she  was  none  of  your 
prim,  fastidious  children,  how  daintily  she  kept 
herself  amid  all  this  dust ;  how  the  spiders'  webs 
never  clung  to  her,  and  how,  when  —  without 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

being  solicited  —  she  clambered  into  the  Doc 
tor's  arms  and  kissed  him,  she  bore  away  no 
smoky  reminiscences  of  the  pipe  that  he  kissed 
continually.  She  had  a  free,  mellow,  natural 
laughter,  that  seemed  the  ripened  fruit  of  the 
smile  that  was  generally  on  her  little  face,  to  be 
shaken  off  and  scattered  abroad  by  any  breeze 
that  came  along.  Little  Elsie  made  playthings 
of  everything,  even  of  the  grim  Doctor,  though 
against  his  will,  and  though,  moreover,  there 
were  tokens  now  and  then  that  the  sight  of 
this  bright  little  creature  was  not  a  pleasure  to 
him,  but,  on  the  contrary,  a  positive  pain  ;  a 
pain,  nevertheless,  indicating  a  profound  inter 
est,  hardly  less  deep  than  though  Elsie  had  been 
his  daughter. 

Elsie  did  not  play  with  the  great  spider,  but 
she  moved  among  the  whole  brood  of  spiders  as 
if  she  saw  them  not,  and,  being  endowed  with 
other  senses  than  those  allied  to  these  things, 
might  coexist  with  them  and  not  be  sensible  of 
their  presence.  Yet  the  child,  I  suppose,  had 
her  crying  fits,  and  her  pouting  fits,  and  naugh 
tiness  enough  to  entitle  her  to  live  on  earth ; 
at  least  crusty  Hannah  often  said  so,  and  often 
made  grievous  complaint  of  disobedience,  mis 
chief,  or  breakage,  attributable  to  little  Elsie  ; 
to  which  the  grim  Doctor  seldom  responded  by 
anything  more  intelligible  than  a  puff  of  to 
bacco  smoke,  and,  sometimes,  an  imprecation  ; 

16 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

which,  however,  hit  crusty  Hannah  instead  of 
the  child.  Where  the  child  got  the  tenderness 
that  a  child  needs  to  live  upon  is  a  mystery  to 
me  ;  perhaps  from  some  aged  or  dead  mother, 
or  in  her  dreams  ;  perhaps  from  some  small 
modicum  of  it,  such  as  boys  have,  from  the 
little  boy ;  or  perhaps  it  was  from  a  Persian  kit 
ten,  which  had  grown  to  be  a  cat  in  her  arms, 
and  slept  in  her  little  bed,  and  now  assumed 
grave  and  protective  airs  towards  her  former 
playmate.2 

The  boy,3  as  we  have  said,  was  two  or  three 
years  Elsie's  elder,  and  might  now  be  about  six 
years  old.  He  was  a  healthy  and  cheerful  child, 
yet  of  a  graver  mood  than  the  little  girl,  ap 
pearing  to  lay  a  more  forcible  grasp  on  the 
circumstances  about  him,  and  to  tread  with  a 
heavier  footstep  on  the  solid  earth  ;  yet  perhaps 
not  more  so  than  was  the  necessary  difference  be 
tween  a  man-blossom,  dimly  conscious  of  com 
ing  things,  and  a  mere  baby,  with  whom  there 
was  neither  past  nor  future.  Ned,  as  he  was 
named,  was  subject  very  early  to  fits  of  musing, 
the  subject  of  which  —  if  they  had  any  definite 
subject,  or  were  more  than  vague  reveries  —  it 
was  impossible  to  guess.  They  were  of  those 
states  of  mind,  probably,  which  are  beyond  the 
sphere  of  human  language,  and  would  necessa 
rily  lose  their  essence  in  the  attempt  to  commu 
nicate  or  record  them.  The  little  girl,  perhaps, 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

had  some  mode  of  sympathy  with  these  unut- 
tered  thoughts  or  reveries,  which  grown  people 
had  ceased  to  have  ;  at  all  events,  she  early 
learned  to  respect  them,  and,  at  other  times  as 
free  and  playful  as  her  Persian  kitten,  she  never 
in  such  circumstances  ventured  on  any  greater 
freedom  than  to  sit  down  quietly  beside  him, 
and  endeavor  to  look  as  thoughtful  as  the  boy 
himself. 

Once,  slowly  emerging  from  one  of  these 
waking  reveries,  little  Ned  gazed  about  him,  and 
saw  Elsie  sitting  with  this  pretty  pretence  of 
thoughtfulness  and  dreaminess  in  her  little  chair, 
close  beside  him  ;  now  and  then  peeping  under 
her  eyelashes  to  note  what  changes  might  come 
over  his  face.  After  looking  at  her  a  moment 
or  two,  he  quietly  took  her  willing  and  warm 
little  hand  in  his  own,  and  led  her  up  to  the 
Doctor. 

The  group,  methinks,  must  have  been  a  pic 
turesque  one,  made  up  as  it  was  of  several 
apparently  discordant  elements,  each  of  which 
happened  to  be  so  combined  as  to  make  a  more 
effective  whole.  The  beautiful  grave  boy,  with 
a  little  sword  by  his  side  and  a  feather  in  his 
hat,  of  a  brown  complexion,  slender,  with  his 
white  brow  and  dark,  thoughtful  eyes,  so  ear 
nest  upon  some  mysterious  theme  ;  the  prettier 
little  girl,  a  blonde,  round,  rosy,  so  truly  sym 
pathetic  with  her  companion's  mood,  yet  un~ 

18 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

consciously  turning  all  to  sport  by  her  attempt 
to  assume  one  similar ;  —  these  two  standing 
at  the  grim  Doctor's  footstool ;  he  meanwhile, 
black,  wild-bearded,  heavy-browed,  red-eyed, 
wrapped  in  his  faded  dressing  gown,  puffing  out 
volumes  of  vapor  from  his  long  pipe,  and  mak 
ing,  just  at  that  instant,  application  to  a  tum 
bler,  which,  we  regret  to  say,  was  generally  at 
his  elbow,  with  some  dark-colored  potation  in 
it  that  required  to  be  frequently  replenished 
from  a  neighboring  black  bottle.  Half,  at  least, 
of  the  fluids  in  the  grim  Doctor's  system  must 
have  been  derived  from  that  same  black  bottle, 
so  constant  was  his  familiarity  with  its  contents ; 
and  yet  his  eyes  were  never  redder  at  one  time 
than  another,  nor  his  utterance  thicker,  nor  his 
mood  perceptibly  the  brighter  or  the  duller  for 
all  his  conviviality.  It  is  true,  when,  once,  the 
bottle  happened  to  be  empty  for  a  whole  day 
together,  Doctor  Grimshawe  was  observed  by 
crusty  Hannah  and  by  the  children  to  be  con 
siderably  fiercer  than  usual ;  so  that  probably, 
by  some  maladjustment  of  consequences,  his  in 
temperance  was  only  to  be  found  in  refraining 
from  brandy. 

Nor  must  we  forget  —  in  attempting  to  con 
ceive  the  effect  of  these  two  beautiful  children 
in  such  a  sombre  room,  looking  on  the  grave 
yard,  and  contrasted  with  the  grim  Doctor's  as 
pect  of  heavy  and  smouldering  fierceness  —  that 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

over  his  head,  at  this  very  moment,  dangled  the 
portentous  spider,  who  seemed  to  have  come 
down  from  his  web  aloft  for  the  purpose  of 
hearing  what  the  two  young  people  could  have 
to  say  to  his  patron,  and  what  reference  it  might 
have  to  certain  mysterious  documents  which  the 
Doctor  kept  locked  up  in  a  secret  cupboard 
behind  the  door. 

"  Grim  Doctor,"  said  Ned,  after  looking  up 
into  the  Doctor's  face,  as  a  sensitive  child  in 
evitably  does,  to  see  whether  the  occasion  was 
favorable,  yet  determined  to  proceed  with  his 
purpose  whether  so  or  not,  —  "  Grim  Doctor, 
I  want  you  to  answer  me  a  question." 

"  Here  's  to  your  good  health,  Ned !  "  quoth 
the  Doctor,  eyeing  the  pair  intently,  as  he  often 
did,  when  they  were  unconscious.  "  So  you 
want  to  ask  me  a  question  ?  As  many  as  you 
please,  my  fine  fellow  ;  and  I  shall  answer  as 
many,  and  as  much,  and  as  truly,  as  may  please 
myself!" 

"Ah,  grim  Doctor  !  "  said  the  little  girl,  now 
letting  go  of  Ned's  hand,  and  climbing  upon 
the  Doctor's  knee,  "  'ou  shall  answer  as  many 
as  Ned  please  to  ask,  because  to  please  him  and 
me!" 

"  Well,  child,"  said  Doctor  Grimshawe,  "  lit 
tle  Ned  will  have  his  rights  at  least,  at  my 
hands,  if  not  other  people's  rights  likewise  ; 
and,  if  it  be  right,  I  shall  answer  his  question. 

20 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

Only,  let  him  ask  it  at  once  ;  for  I  want  to  be 
busy  thinking  about  something  else." 

"  Then,  Doctor  Grim,"  said  little  Ned,  "  tell 
me,  in  the  first  place,  where  I  came  from,  and 
how  you  came  to  have  me." 

The  Doctor  looked  at  the  little  man,  so  seri 
ously  and  earnestly  putting  this  demand,  with 
a  perplexed,  and  at  first  it  might  almost  seem  a 
startled  aspect. 

"  That  is  a  question,  indeed,  my  friend  Ned  ! " 
ejaculated  he,  putting  forth  a  whiff  of  smoke 
and  imbibing  a  nip  from  his  tumbler  before  he 
spoke  ;  and  perhaps  framing  his  answer,  as  many 
thoughtful  and  secret  people  do,  in  such  a  way 
as  to  let  out  his  secret  mood  to  the  child,  be 
cause  knowing  he  could  not  understand  it. 
"  Whence  did  you  come  ?  Whence  did  any  of 
us  come  ?  Out  of  the  darkness  and  mystery  ; 
out  of  nothingness  ;  out  of  a  kingdom  of  shad 
ows  ;  out  of  dust,  clay,  mud,  I  think,  and  to 
return  to  it  again.  Out  of  a  former  state  of 
being,  whence  we  have  brought  a  good  many 
shadowy  revelations,  purporting  that  it  was  no 
very  pleasant  one.  Out  of  a  former  life,  of 
which  the  present  one  is  the  hell !  —  And  why 
are  you  come  ?  Faith,  Ned,  he  must  be  a  wiser 
man  than  Doctor  Grim  who  can  tell  why  you 
or  any  other  mortal  came  hither;  only  one 
thing  I  am  well  aware  of,  —  it  was  not  to  be 
happy.  To  toil  and  moil  and  hope  and  fear ; 

21 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

and  to  love  in  a  shadowy,  doubtful  sort  of  way, 
and  to  hate  in  bitter  earnest,  —  that  is  what  you 
came  for  !  " 

<c  Ah,  Doctor  Grim  !  this  is  very  naughty," 
said  little  Elsie.  "  You  are  making  fun  of  little 
Ned,  when  he  is  in  earnest." 

"  Fun  !  "  quoth  Doctor  Grim,  bursting  into 
a  laugh  peculiar  to  him,  very  loud  and  obstrep 
erous.  "  I  am  glad  you  find  it  so,  my  little 
woman.  Well,  and  so  you  bid  me  tell  abso 
lutely  where  he  came  from  ?  " 

Elsie  nodded  her  bright  little  head. 

"  And  you,  friend  Ned,  insist  upon  know- 
ing?" 

"  That  I  do,  Doctor  Grim  !  "  answered  Ned. 
His  white,  childish  brow  had  gathered  into  a 
frown,  such  was  the  earnestness  of  his  determi 
nation  ;  and  he  stamped  his  foot  on  the  floor, 
as  if  ready  to  follow  up  his  demand  by  an  ap 
peal1  to  the  little  tin  sword  which  hung  by  his 
side.  The  Doctor  looked  at  him  with  a  kind 
of  smile,  —  not  a  very  pleasant  one  ;  for  it  was 
an  unamiable  characteristic  of  his  temper  that 
a  display  of  spirit,  even  in  a  child,  was  apt  to 
arouse  his  immense  combativeness,  and  make 
him  aim  a  blow  without  much  consideration 
how  heavily  it  might  fall,  or  on  how  unequal 
an  antagonist. 

"  If  you  insist  upon  an  answer,  Master  Ned, 
you  shall  have  it,"  replied  he.  "You  were 

22 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

*<iken  by  me,  boy,  a  foundling  from  an  alms- 
house  ;  and  if  ever  hereafter  you  desire  to  know 
your  kindred,  you  must  take  your  chance  of 
the  first  man  you  meet.  He  is  as  likely  to  be 
your  father  as  another  !  " 

The  child's  eyes  flashed,  and  his  brow  grew 
as  red  as  fire.  It  was  but  a  momentary  fierce 
ness  ;  the  next  instant  he  clasped  his  hands  over 
his  face,  and  wept  in  a  violent  convulsion  of 
grief  and  shame.  Little  Elsie  clasped  her  arms 
about  him,  kissing  his  brow  and  chin,  which 
were  all  that  her  lips  could  touch,  under  his 
clasped  hands ;  but  Ned  turned  away  uncom- 
forted,  and  was  blindly  making  his  way  towards 
the  door. 

"  Ned,  my  little  fellow,  come  back  !  "  said 
Doctor  Grim,  who  had  very  attentively  watched 
the  cruel  effect  of  his  communication. 

As  the  boy  did  not  reply,  and  was  still  tend 
ing  towards  the  door,  the  grim  Doctor  vouch 
safed  to  lay  aside  his  pipe,  get  up  from  his 
armchair  (a  thing  he  seldom  did  between  sup 
per  and  bedtime),  and  shuffle  after  the  two  chil 
dren  in  his  slippers.  He  caught  them  on  the 
threshold,  brought  little  Ned  back  by  main 
force,  —  for  he  was  a  rough  man  even  in  his 
tenderness, —  and,  sitting  down  again  and  tak 
ing  him  on  his  knee,  pulled  away  his  hands 
from  before  his  face.  Never  was  a  more  pitiful 
sight  than  that  pale  countenance,  so  infantile 

23 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

still,  yet  looking  old  and  experienced  already, 
with  a  sense  of  disgrace,  with  a  feeling  of  lone 
liness  ;  so  beautiful,  nevertheless,  that  it  seemed 
to  possess  all  the  characteristics  which  fine  he 
reditary  traits  and  culture,  or  many  forefathers, 
could  do  in  refining  a  human  stock.  And  this 
was  a  nameless  weed,  sprouting  from  some 
chance  seed  by  the  dusty  wayside  ! 

"  Ned,  my  dear  old  boy,"  said  Doctor  Grim, 
—  and  he  kissed  that  pale,  tearful  face,  the  first 
and  last  time,  to  the  best  of  my  belief,  that  he 
was  ever  betrayed  into  that  tenderness,  —  "  for 
get  what  I  have  said  !  Yes,  remember,  if  you 
like,  that  you  came  from  an  almshouse  ;  but  re 
member,  too,  —  what  your  friend  Doctor  Grim 
is  ready  to  affirm  and  make  oath  of, —  that  he 
can  trace  your  kindred  and  race  through  that 
sordid  experience,  and  back,  back,  for  a  hundred 
and  fifty  years,  into  an  old  English  line.  Come, 
little  Ned,  and  look  at  this  picture." 

He  led  the  boy  by  the  hand  to  a  corner  of 
the  room,  where  hung  upon  the  wall  a  portrait 
which  Ned  had  often  looked  at.  It  seemed  an 
old  picture ;  but  the  Doctor  had  had  it  cleaned 
and  varnished,  so  that  it  looked  dim  and  dark, 
and  yet  it  seemed  to  be  the  representation  of  a 
man  of  no  mark  ;  not  at  least  of  such  mark  as 
would  naturally  leave  his  features  to  be  trans 
mitted  for  the  interest  of  another  generation. 
For  he  was  clad  in  a  mean  dress  of  old  fashion, 

24 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

—  a  leather  jerkin  it  appeared  to  be,  —  and 
round  his  neck,  moreover,  was  a  noose  of  rope, 
as  if  he  might  have  been  on  the  point  of  being 
hanged.  But  the  face  of  the  portrait,  neverthe 
less,  was  beautiful,  noble,  though  sad ;  with  a 
great  development  of  sensibility,  a  look  of  suf 
fering  and  endurance  amounting  to  triumph,  — 
a  peace  through  all. 

"  Look  at  this,'*  continued  the  Doctor,  "  if 
you  must  go  on  dreaming  about  your  race. 
Dream  that  you  are  of  the  blood  of  this  being ; 
for,  mean  as  his  station  looks,  he  comes  of  an 
ancient  and  noble  race,  and  was  the  noblest  of 
them  all  !  Let  me  alone,  Ned,  and  I  shall  spin 
out  the  web  that  shall  link  you  to  that  man 
The  grim  Doctor  can  do  it !  " 

The  grim  Doctor's  face  looked  fierce  with  the 
earnestness  with  which  he  said  these  words.  You 
would  have  said  that  he  was  taking  an  oath  to 
overthrow  and  annihilate  a  race,  rather  than  to 
build  one  up  by  bringing  forward  the  infant  heir 
out  of  obscurity,  and  making  plain  the  links  — 
the  filaments  —  which  cemented  this  feeble  child 
ish  life,  in  a  far  country,  with  the  great  tide  of  a 
noble  life,  which  had  come  down  like  a  chain 
from  antiquity,  in  old  England. 

Having  said  the  words,  however,  the  grim 
Doctor  appeared  ashamed  both  of  the  heat  and 
of  the  tenderness  into  which  he  had  been  be 
trayed  ;  for  rude  and  rough  as  his  nature  was, 
25 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

there  was  a  kind  of  decorum  in  it,  too,  that  kept 
him  within  limits  of  his  own.  So  he  went  back 
to  his  chair,  his  pipe,  and  his  tumbler,  and  was 
gruffer  and  more  taciturn  than  ever  for  the  rest 
of  the  evening.  And  after  the  children  went  to 
bed,  he  leaned  back  in  his  chair  and  looked  up 
at  the  vast  tropic  spider,  who  was  particularly 
busy  in  adding  to  the  intricacies  of  his  web  ; 
until  he  fell  asleep  with  his  eyes  fixed  in  that 
direction,  and  the  extinguished  pipe  in  one  hand 
and  the  empty  tumbler  in  the  other. 

26 


CHAPTER  III 

DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE,  after  the 
foregone  scene,  began  a  practice  of  con 
versing  more  with  the  children  than 
formerly;  directing  his  discourse  chiefly  to  Ned, 
although  Elsie's  vivacity  and  more  outspoken 
and  demonstrative  character  made  her  take 
quite  as  large  a  share  in  the  conversation  as  he. 
The  Doctor's  communications  referred  chiefly 
to  a  village,  or  neighborhood,  or  locality  in  Eng 
land,  which  he  chose  to  call  Newnham  ;  although 
he  told  the  children  that  this  was  not  the  real 
name,  which,  for  reasons  best  known  to  himself, 
he  wished  to  conceal.  Whatever  the  name  were, 
he  seemed  to  know  the  place  so  intimately,  that 
the  children,  as  a  matter  of  course,  adopted  the 
conclusion  that  it  was  his  birthplace,  and  the  spot 
where  he  had  spent  his  schoolboy  days,  and  had 
lived  until  some  inscrutable  reason  had  impelled 
him  to  quit  its  ivy-grown  antiquity,  and  all  the 
aged  beauty  and  strength  that  he  spoke  of,  and 
to  cross  the  sea. 

He  used  to  tell  of  an  old  church,  far  unlike 
the  brick  and  pine-built  meeting-houses  with 
which  the  children  were  familiar  ;  a  church,  the 
stones  of  which  were  laid,  every  one  of  them, 

27 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

before  the  world  knew  of  the  country  in  which 
he  was  then  speaking ;  and  how  it  had  a  spire, 
the  lower  part  of  which  was  mantled  with  ivy, 
and  up  which,  towards  its  very  spire,  the  ivy  was 
still  creeping;  and  how  there  was  a  tradition, 
that,  if  the  ivy  ever  reached  the  top,  the  spire 
would  fall  upon  the  roof  of  the  old  gray  church, 
and  crush  it  all  down  among  its  surrounding 
tombstones.1  And  so,  as  this  misfortune  would 
be  so  heavy  a  one,  there  seemed  to  be  a  miracle 
wrought  from  year  to  year,  by  which  the  ivy, 
though  always  flourishing,  could  never  grow 
beyond  a  certain  point ;  so  that  the  spire  and 
church  had  stood  unharmed  for  thirty  years ; 
though  the  wise  old  people  were  constantly  fore 
telling  that  the  passing  year  must  be  the  very 
last  one  that  it  could  stand. 

He  told,  too,  of  a  place  that  made  little  Ned 
blush  and  cast  down  his  eyes  to  hide  the  tears 
of  anger  and  shame  at  he  knew  not  what,  which 
would  irresistibly  spring  into  them  ;  for  it  re 
minded  him  of  the  almshouse  where,  as  the  cruel 
Doctor  said,  Ned  himself  had  had  his  earliest 
home.  And  yet,  after  all,  it  had  scarcely  a  fea 
ture  of  resemblance  ;  and  there  was  this  great 
point  of  difference,  —  that  whereas,  in  Ned's 
wretched  abode  (a  large,  unsightly  brick  house), 
there  were  many  wretched  infants  like  himself, 
as  well  as  helpless  people  of  all  ages,  widows, 
decayed  drunkards,  people  of  feeble  wits,  and 

28 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

all  kinds  of  imbecility  ;  it  being  a  haven  for 
those  who  could  not  contend  in  the  hard,  eager, 
pitiless  struggle  of  life  ;  in  the  place  the  Doctor 
spoke  of,  a  noble,  Gothic,  mossy  structure,  there 
were  none  but  aged  men,  who  had  drifted  into 
this  quiet  harbor  to  end  their  days  in  a  sort  of 
humble  yet  stately  ease  and  decorous  abundance. 
And  this  shelter,  the  grim  Doctor  said,  was  the 
gift  of  a  man  who  had  died  ages  ago  ;  and  having 
been  a  great  sinner  in  his  lifetime,  and  having 
drawn  lands,  manors,  and  a  great  mass  of  wealth 
into  his  clutches  by  violent  and  unfair  means, 
had  thought  to  get  his  pardon  by  founding  this 
Hospital,  as  it  was  called,  in  which  thirteen  old 
men  should  always  reside ;  and  he  hoped  that 
they  would  spend  their  time  in  praying  for  the 
welfare  of  his  soul.2 

Said  little  Elsie,  "  I  am  glad  he  did  it,  and  I 
hope  the  poor  old  men  never  forgot  to  pray  for 
him,  and  that  it  did  good  to  the  poor  wicked 
man's  soul." 

"  Well,  child,"  said  Doctor  Grimshawe,  with 
a  scowl  into  vacancy,  and  a  sort  of  wicked  leer 
of  merriment  at  the  same  time,  as  if  he  saw  be 
fore  him  the  face  of  the  dead  man  of  past  cen 
turies,  "  I  happen  to  be  no  lover  of  this  man's 
race,  and  I  hate  him  for  the  sake  of  one  of  his 
descendants.  I  don't  think  he  succeeded  in 
bribing  the  Devil  to  let  him  go,  or  God  to  save 
him!" 

29 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

"  Doctor  Grim,  you  are  very  naughty  !  "  said 
Elsie,  looking  shocked/ 

"  It  is  fair  enough,"  said  Ned, "  to  hate  your 
enemy  to  the  very  brink  of  the  grave,  but  then 
to  leave  him  to  get  what  mercy  he  can." 

"  After  shoving  him  in  !  "  quoth  the  Doctor, 
and  made  no  further  response  to  either  of  these 
criticisms,  which  seemed  indeed  to  affect  him 
very  little — if  he  even  listened  to  them.  For 
he  was  a  man  of  singularly  imperfect  moral  cul 
ture  ;  insomuch  that  nothing  else  was  so  remark 
able  about  him  as  that  —  possessing  a  good  deal 
of  intellectual  ability,  made  available  by  much 
reading  and  experience  —  he  was  so  very  dark 
on  the  moral  side  ;  as  if  he  needed  the  natural 
perceptions  that  should  have  enabled  him  to  ac 
quire  that  better  wisdom.  Such  a  phenomenon 
often  meets  us  in  life  ;  oftener  than  we  recog 
nize,  because  a  certain  tact  and  exterior  decency 
generally  hide  the  moral  deficiency.  But  often 
there  is  a  mind  well  polished,  married  to  a  con 
science  and  natural  impulses  left  as  they  were  in 
childhood,  except  that  they  have  sprouted  up 
into  evil  and  poisonous  weeds,  richly  blossom 
ing  with  strong-smelling  flowers,  or  seeds  which 
the  plant  scatters  by  a  sort  of  impulse  ;  even  as 
the  Doctor  was  now  half  consciously  throwing 
seeds  of  his  evil  passions  into  the  minds  of  these 
children.  He  was  himself  a  grown-up  child, 
without  tact,  simplicity,  and  innocence,  and  with 
3° 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

ripened  evil,  all  the  ranker  for  a  native  heat  that 
was  in  him  and  still  active,  which  might  have 
nourished  good  things  as  well  as  evil.  Indeed, 
it  did  cherish  by  chance  a  root  or  two  of  good, 
the  fragrance  of  which  was  sometimes  percep 
tible  among  all  this  rank  growth  of  poisonous 
weeds.  A  grown-up  child  he  was,  —  that  was 
all. 

The  Doctor  now  went  on  to  describe  an  old 
country  seat,  which  stood  near  this -village  and 
the  ancient  Hospital  that  he  had  been  telling 
about,  and  which  was  formerly  the  residence  of 
the  wicked  man  (a  knight  and  a  brave  one,  well 
known  in  the  Lancastrian  wars)  who  had  founded 
the  latter.  It  was  a  venerable  old  mansion,  which 
a  Saxon  Thane  had  begun  to  build  more  than 
a  thousand  years  ago,  the  old  English  oak  that 
he  built  into  the  frame  being  still  visible  in  the 
ancient  skeleton  of  .its  roof,  sturdy  and  strong 
as  if  put  up  yesterday.  And  the  descendants 
of  the  man  who  built  it,  through  the  French 
line  (for  a  Norman  baron  wedded  the  daughter 
and  heiress  of  the  Saxon),  dwelt  there  yet ;  and 
in  each  century  they  had  done  something  for  the 
old  Hall,  —  building  a  tower,  adding  a  suite  of 
rooms,  strengthening  what  was  already  built, 
putting  in  a  painted  window,  making  it  more 
spacious  and  convenient, —  till  it  seemed  as  if 
Time  employed  himself  in  thinking  what  could 
be  done  for  the  old  house.  As  fast  as  any  part 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

decayed,  it  was  renewed,  with  such  simple  art 
that  the  new  completed,  as  it  were,  and  fitted  it 
self  to  the  old.  So  that  it  seemed  as  if  the  house 
never  had  been  finished,  until  just  that  thing  was 
added.  For  many  an  age,  the  possessors  had 
gone  on  adding  strength  to  strength,  digging 
out  the  moat  to  a  greater  depth,  piercing  the 
walls  with  holes  for  archers  to  shoot  through, 
or  building  a  turret  to  keep  watch  upon.  But 
at  last  all  necessity  for  these  precautions  passed 
away,  and  then  they  thought  of  convenience  and 
comfort,  adding  something  in  every  generation 
to  these.  And  by  and  by  they  thought  of 
beauty  too ;  and  in  this  time  helped  them  with 
its  weather-stains,  and  the  ivy  that  grew  over 
the  walls,  and  the  grassy  depth  of  the  dried-up 
moat,  and  the  abundant  shade  that  grew  up 
everywhere,  where  naked  strength  would  have 
been  ugly. 

"  One  curious  thing  in  the  house,"  said  the 
Doctor,  lowering  his  voice,  but  with  a  mysteri 
ous  look  of  triumph,  and  that  old  scowl,  too,  at 
the  children,  "  was  that  they  built  a  secret  cham 
ber,  —  a  very  secret  one  !  " 

"  A  secret  chamber !  "  cried  little  Ned  ;  "  who 
lived  in  it  ?  A  ghost  ?  " 

"  There  was  often  use  for  it,"  said  Doctor 
Grim  :  "  hiding  people  who  had  fought  on  the 
wrong  side,  or  Catholic  priests,  or  criminals,  or 
perhaps  —  who  knows  ?  —  enemies  that  they 

32 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

wanted  put  out  of  the  way,  —  troublesome 
folks.  Ah  !  it  was  often  of  use,  that  secret 
chamber ;  and  is  so  still  !  " 

Here  the  Doctor  paused  a  long  while,  and 
leaned  back  in  his  chair,  slowly  puffing  long 
whiffs  from  his  pipe,  looking  up  at  the  great 
spider  demon  that  hung  over  his  head,  and,  as 
it  seemed  to  the  children  by  the  expression  of 
his  face,  looking  into  the  dim  secret  chamber 
which  he  had  spoken  of,  and  which,  by  some 
thing  in  his  mode  of  alluding,  to  it,  assumed 
such  a  weird,  spectral  aspect  to  their  imagina 
tions  that  they  never  wished  to  hear  of  it  again. 
Coming  back  at  length  out  of  his  reverie,  —  re 
turning,  perhaps,  out  of  some  weird,  ghostly,  sej 
cret  chamber  of  his  memory,  whereof  the  one  in 
the  old  house  was  but  the  less  horrible  emblem, 
—  he  resumed  his  tale. 

He  said  that,  a  long  time  ago,  a  war  broke 
out  in  the  old  country  between  King  and  Par 
liament.  At  that  period  there  were  several 
brothers  of  the  old  family  (which  had  adhered 
to  the  Catholic  religion),  and  these  chose  the 
side  of  the  King  instead  of  that  of  the  Puritan 
Parliament :  all  but  one,  whom  the  family  hated 
because  he  took  the  Parliament  side ;  and  he 
became  a  soldier,  and  fought  against  his  own 
brothers ;  and  it  was  said  among  them  that, 
so  inveterate  was  he,  he  went  on  the  scaffold, 
masked,  and  was  the  very  man  who  struck  off 

33 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

the  King's  head,  and  that  his  foot  trod  in  the 
King's  blood,  and  that  always  afterwards  he 
made  a  bloody  track  wherever  he  went.  And 
there  was  a  legend  that  his  brethren  once  caught 
the  renegade  and  imprisoned  him  in  his  own 
birthplace  — 

"In  the  secret  chamber  ? "  interrupted  Ned. 

"  No  doubt  !  "  said  the  Doctor,  nodding, 
"  though  I  never  heard  so." 

They  imprisoned  him,  but  he  made  his  escape 
and  fled,  and  in  the  morning  his  prison  place, 
wherever  it  was,  was  empty.  But  on  the  thresh 
old  of  the  door  of  the  old  manor  house  there 
was  the  print  of  a  bloody  footstep ;  and  no 
trouble  that  the  housemaids  took,  no  rain  of  all 
the  years  that  have  since  passed,  no  sunshine, 
has  made  it  fade  ;  nor  have  all  the  wear  and 
tramp  of  feet  passing  over  it  since  then  availed 
to  erase  it. 

"  I  have  seen  it  myself,"  quoth  the  Doctor, 
"  and  know  this  to  be  true." 

"  Doctor  Grim,  now  you  are  laughing  at  us," 
said  Ned,  trying  to  look  grave.  But  Elsie  hid 
her  face  on  the  Doctor's  knee  ;  there  being 
something  that  affected  the  vivid  little  girl  with 
peculiar  horror  in  the  idea  of  this  red  footstep 
always  glistening  on  the  doorstep,  and  wetting, 
as  she  fancied,  every  innocent  foot  of  child  or 
grown  person  that  had  since  passed  over  it.3 

"  It  is  true  !  "  reiterated  the  grim  Doctor  ; 
34 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

"  for,  man  and  boy,  I  have  seen  it  a  thousand 
times." 

He  continued  the  family  history,  or  tradition, 
or  fantastic  legend,  whichever  it  might  be ;  tell 
ing  his  young  auditors  that  the  Puritan,  the 
renegade  son  of  the  family,  was  afterwards,  by 
the  contrivances  of  his  brethren,  sent  to  Vir 
ginia  and  sold  as  a  bond-slave  ;  and  how  he  had 
vanished  from  that  quarter  and  come  to  New 
England,  where  he  was  supposed  to  have  left 
children.  And  by  and  by  two  elder  brothers 
died,  and  this  missing  brother  became  the  heir 
to  the  old  estate  and  to  a  title.  Then  the  fam 
ily  tried  to  track  his  bloody  footstep,  and  sought 
it  far  and  near,  through  green  country  paths, 
and  old  streets  of  London ;  but  in  vain.  Then 
they  sent  messengers  to  see  whether  any  traces 
of  one  stepping  in  blood  could  be  found  on  the 
forest  leaves  of  America  ;  but  still  in  vain.  The 
idea  nevertheless  prevailed  that  he  would  come 
back,  and  it  was  said  they  kept  a  bedchamber 
ready  for  him  yet  in  the  old  house.  But  much 
as  they  pretended  to  regret  the  loss  of  him  and 
his  children,  it  would  make  them  curse  their 
stars  were  a  descendant  of  his  to  return  now. 
For  the  child  of  a  younger  son  was  in  posses 
sion  of  the  old  estate,  and  was  doing  as  much 
evil  as  his  forefathers  did ;  and  if  the  true  heir 
were  to  appear  on  the  threshold,  he  would  (if 
he  might  but  do  it  secretly)  stain  the  whole 

35 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

doorstep  as  red  as  the  Bloody  Footstep  had 
stained  one  little  portion  of  it. 

"  Do  you  think  he  will  ever  come  back  ?  " 
asked  little  Ned. 

"  Stranger  things  have  happened,  my  little 
man/'  said  Doctor  Grimshawe,  "  than  that  the 
posterity  of  this  man  should  come  back  and 
turn  these  usurpers  out  of  his  rightful  inherit 
ance.  And  sometimes,  as  I  sit  here  smoking 
my  pipe  and  drinking  my  glass,  and  looking  up 
at  the  cunning  plot  that  the  spider  is  weaving 
yonder  above  my  head,  and  thinking  of  this 
fine  old  family  and  some  little  matters  that  have 
been  between  them  and  me,  I  fancy  that  it  may 
be  so  !  We  shall  see  !  Stranger  things  have 
happened." 

And  Doctor  Grimshawe  drank  off  his  tum 
bler,  winking  at  little  Ned  in  a  strange  way,  that 
seemed  to  be  a  kind  of  playfulness,  but  which 
did  not  affect  the  children  pleasantly  ;  insomuch 
that  little  Elsie  put  both  her  hands  on  Doctor 
Grim's  knees,  and  begged  him  not  to  do  so  any 


more.4 


36 


CHAPTER  IV1 

THE  children,  after  this  conversation, 
often  introduced  the  old  English  man 
sion  into  their  dreams  and  little  ro 
mances,  which  all  imaginative  children  are  con 
tinually  mixing  up  with  their  lives,  making  the 
commonplace  day  of  grown  people  a  rich,  misty, 
glancing  orb  of  fairyland  to  themselves.  Ned, 
forgetting  or  not  realizing  the  long  lapse  of 
time,  used  to  fancy  the  true  heir  wandering  all 
this  while  in  America,  and  leaving  a  long  track 
of  bloody  footsteps  behind  him ;  until  the  pe 
riod  when,  his  sins  being  expiated  (whatever 
they  might  be),  he  should  turn  back  upon  his 
steps  and  return  to  his  old  native  home.  And 
sometimes  the  child  used  to  look  along  the 
streets  of  the  town  where  he  dwelt,  bending  his 
thoughtful  eyes  on  the  ground,  and  think  that 
perhaps  some  time  he  should  see  the  bloody 
footsteps  there,  betraying  that  the  wanderer  had 
just  gone  that  way. 

As  for  little  Elsie,  it  was  her  fancy  that  the 
hero  of  the  legend  still  remained  imprisoned  in 
that  dreadful  secret  chamber,  which  had  made  a 
most  dread  impression  on  her  mind ;  and  that 
there  he  was,  forgotten  all  this  time,  waiting, 

37 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

like  a  naughty  child  shut  up  in  a  closet,  until 
some  one  should  come  to  unlock  the  door.  In 
the  pitifulness  of  her  disposition,  she  once  pro 
posed  to  little  Ned  that,  as  soon  as  they  grew 
big  enough,  they  should  set  out  in  quest  of  the 
old  house,  and  find  their  way  into  it,  and  find 
the  secret  chamber,  and  let  the  poor  prisoner 
out.  So  they  lived  a  good  deal  of  the  time  in 
a  half-waking  dream,  partly  conscious  of  the 
fantastic  nature  of  their  ideas,  yet  with  these 
ideas  almost  as  real  to  them  as  the  facts  of  the 
natural  world,  which,  to  children,  are  at  first 
transparent  and  unsubstantial. 

The  Doctor  appeared  to  have  a  pleasure,  or 
a  purpose,  in  keeping  his  legend  forcibly  in  their 
memories ;  he  often  recurred  to  the  subject  of 
the  old  English  family,  and  was  continually  giv 
ing  new  details  about  its  history,  the  scenery  in 
its  neighborhood,  the  aspect  of  the  mansion 
house ;  indicating  a  very  intense  interest  in  the 
subject  on  his  own  part,  of  which  this  much  talk 
seemed  the  involuntary  overflowing. 

There  was,  however,  an  affection  mingled  with 
this  sentiment.  It  appeared  to  be  his  unfortunate 
necessity  to  let  his  thoughts  dwell  very  con 
stantly  upon  a  subject  that  was  hateful  to  him, 
with  which  this  old  English  estate  and  manor 
house  and  family  were  somehow  connected  :  and, 
moreover,  had  he  spoken  thus  to  older  and  more 
experienced  auditors,  they  might  have  detected 

38 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

in  the  manner  and  matter  of  his  talk  a  certain 
hereditary  reverence  and  awe,  the  growth  of  ages, 
mixed  up  with  a  newer  hatred,  impelling  him  to 
deface  and  destroy  what,  at  the  same  time,  it  was 
his  deepest  impulse  to  bow  before.  The  love 
belonged  to  his  race  ;  the  hatred,  to  himself  indi 
vidually.  It  was  the  feeling  of  a  man  lowly  born, 
when  he  contracts  a  hostility  to  his  hereditary 
superior.  In  one  way,  being  of  a  powerful,  pas 
sionate  nature,  gifted  with  force  and  ability  far 
superior  to  that  of  the  aristocrat,  he  might  scorn 
him  and  feel  able  to  trample  on  him ;  in  another, 
he  had  the  same  awe  that  a  country  boy  feels 
of  the  magistrate  who  flings  him  a  sixpence  and 
shakes  his  horsewhip  at  him. 

Had  the  grim  Doctor  been  an  American,  he 
might  have  had  the  vast  antipathy  to  rank,  with 
out  the  trace  of  awe  that  made  it  so  much  more 
malignant :  it  required  a  low-born  Englishman  to 
feel  the  two  together.  What  made  the  hatred 
so  fiendish  was  a  something  that,  in  the  natural 
course  of  things,  would  have  been  loyalty,  in 
herited  affection,  devoted  self-sacrifice  to  a  supe 
rior.  Whatever  it  might  be,  it  seemed  at  times 
(when  his  potations  took  deeper  effect  than  or 
dinary)  almost  to  drive  the  grim  Doctor  mad ;  for 
he  would  burst  forth  in  wild  diatribes  and  anathe 
mas,  having  a  strange,  rough  force  of  expression 
and  a  depth  of  utterance,  as  if  his  words  came 
from  a  bottomless  pit  within  himself,  where 

39 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

burned  an  everlasting  fire,  and  where  the  furies 
had  their  home ;  and  plans  of  dire  revenge  were 
welded  into  shape  as  in  the  heat  of  a  furnace. 
After  the  two  poor  children  had  been  affrighted 
by  paroxysms  of  this  kind,  the  strange  being 
would  break  out  into  one  of  his  roars  of  laughter, 
that  seemed  to  shake  the  house,  and,  at  all  events, 
caused  the  cobwebs  and  spiders  suspended  from 
the  ceiling  to  swing  and  vibrate  with  the  motion 
of  the  volumes  of  reverberating  breath  which  he 
thus  expelled  from  his  capacious  lungs.  Then, 
catching  up  little  Elsie  upon  one  knee  and  Ned 
upon  the  other,  he  would  become  gentler  than 
in  his  usual  moods,  and,  by  the  powerful  mag 
netism  of  his  character,  cause  them  to  think  him 
as  tender  and  sweet  an  old  fellow  as  a  child  could 
desire  for  a  playmate.  Upon  the  whole,  strange 
as  it  may  appear,  they  loved  the  grim  Doctor 
dearly  ;  there  was  a  loadstone  within  him  that 
drew  them  close  to  him  and  kept  them  there,  in 
spite  of  the  horror  of  many  things  that  he  said 
and  did.  One  thing  that,  slight  as  it  seemed, 
wrought  mightily  towards  their  mutually  petting 
each  other,  was  that  no  amount  of  racket,  hubbub, 
shouting,  laughter,  or  noisy  mischief  which  the 
two  children  could  perpetrate,  ever  disturbed  the 
Doctor's  studies,  meditations,  or  employments 
of  whatever  kind.  He  had  a  hardy  set  of  nerves, 
not  refined  by  careful  treatment  in  himself  or 
his  ancestors,  but  probably  accustomed  from  of 

40 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

old  to  be  drummed  on  by  harsh  voices,  rude 
sounds,  and  the  clatter  and  clamor  of  house 
hold  life  among  homely,  uncultivated,  strongly 
animal  people. 

As  the  two  children  grew  apace,  it  behooved 
their  strange  guardian  to  take  some  thought  for 
their  instruction.  So  far  as  little  Elsie  was  con 
cerned,  however,  he  seemed  utterly  indifferent  to 
her  having  any  cultivation ;  having  imbibed  no 
modern  ideas  respecting  feminine  capacities  and 
privileges,  but  regarding  woman,  whether  in  the 
bud  or  in  the  blossom,  as  the  plaything  of  man's 
idler  moments,  and  the  helpmeet  —  but  in  a 
humble  capacity  —  of  his  daily  life.  He  some 
times  bade  her  go  to  the  kitchen  and  take  lessons 
of  crusty  Hannah  in  bread-making,  sweeping, 
dusting,  washing,  the  coarser  needlework,  and 
such  other  things  as  she  would  require  to  know 
when  she  came  to  be  a  woman  ;  but  carelessly 
allowed  her  to  gather  up  the  crumbs  of  such  in 
struction  as  he  bestowed  on  her  playmate  Ned, 
and  thus  learn  to  read,  write,  and  cipher  ;  which, 
to  say  the  truth,  was  about  as  far  in  the  way  of 
scholarship  as  little  Elsie  cared  to  go. 

But  towards  little  Ned  the  grim  Doctor 
adopted  a  far  different  system.  No  sooner  had 
he  reached  the  age  when  the  soft  and  tender 
intellect  of  the  child  became  capable  of  retain 
ing  impressions,  than  he  took  him  vigorously  in 
hand,  assigning  him  such  tasks  as  were  fit  for 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

him,  and  curiously  investigating  what  were  the 
force  and  character  of  the  powers  with  which  the 
child  grasped  them.  Not  that  the  Doctor  pressed 
him  forward  unduly  ;  indeed,  there  was  no  need 
of  it ;  for  the  boy  manifested  a  remarkable  docil 
ity  for  instruction,  and  a  singular  quickness  in 
mastering  the  preliminary  steps  which  lead  to 
science  :  a  subtle  instinct,  indeed,  which  it  seemed 
wonderful  a  child  should  possess  for  anything 
as  artificial  as  systems  of  grammar  and  arithmetic. 
A  remarkable  boy,  in  truth,  he  was,  to  have  been 
found  by  chance  in  an  almshouse  ;  except  that, 
such  being  his  origin,  we  are  at  liberty  to  sup 
pose  for  him  whatever  long  cultivation  and  gen 
tility  we  may  think  necessary,  in  his  parentage 
of  either  side,  —  such  as  was  indicated  also  by 
his  graceful  and  refined  beauty  of  person.  He 
showed,  indeed,  even  before  he  began  to  read  at 
all,  an  instinctive  attraction  towards  books,  and 
a  love  for  and  interest  in  even  the  material  form 
of  knowledge,  —  the  plates,  the  print,  the  bind 
ing  of  the  Doctor's  volumes,  and  even  in  a  book 
worm  which  he  once  found  in  an  old  volume, 
where  it  had  eaten  a  circular  furrow.  But  the 
little  boy  had  too  quick  a  spirit  of  life  to  be  in 
danger  of  becoming  a  bookworm  himself.  He 
had  this  side  of  the  intellect,  but  his  impulse 
would  be  to  mix  with  men,  and  catch  something 
from  their  intercourse  fresher  than  books  could 

42 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

give  him ;  though  these  would  give  him  what 
they  might. 

In  the  grim  Doctor,  rough  and  uncultivated 
as  he  seemed,  this  budding  intelligence  found 
no  inadequate  instructor.  Doctor  Grimshawe 
proved  himself  a  far  more  thorough  scholar,  in 
the  classics  and  mathematics,  than  could  easily 
have  been  found  in  our  country.  He  himself 
must  have  had  rigid  and  faithful  instruction  at 
an  early  period  of  life,  though  probably  not  in 
his  boyhood.  For,  though  the  culture  had  been 
bestowed,  his  mind  had  been  left  in  so  singu 
larly  rough  a  state  that  it  seemed  as  if  the  re 
finement  of  classical  study  could  not  have  been 
begun  very  early.  Or  possibly  the  mind  and 
nature  were  incapable  of  polish ;  or  he  may 
have  had  a  coarse  and  sordid  domestic  life 
around  him  in  his  infancy  and  youth.  He  was 
a  gem  of  coarse  texture,  just  hewn  out.  An 
American  with  a  like  education  would  more 
likely  have  gained  a  certain  fineness  and  grace, 
and  it  would  have  been  difficult  to  distinguish 
him  from  one  who  had  been  born  to  culture  and 
refinement.  This  sturdy  Englishman,  after  all 
that  had  been  done  for  his  mind,  and  though 
it  had  been  well  done,  was  still  but  another 
ploughman,  of  a  long  race  of  such,  with  a  few 
scratchings  of  refinement  on  his  hard  exterior. 
His  son,  if  he  left  one,  might  be  a  little  less  of 
43 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

the  ploughman  ;  his  grandson,  provided  the 
female  element  were  well  chosen,  might  ap 
proach  to  refinement ;  three  generations  —  a  cen 
tury  at  least  —  would  be  required  for  the  slow 
toil  of  hewing,  chiselling,  and  polishing  a  gen 
tleman  out  of  this  ponderous  block,  now  rough 
from  the  quarry  of  human  nature.  But,  in 
the  meantime,  he  evidently  possessed  in  an  un 
usual  degree  the  sort  of  learning  that  refines 
other  minds,  —  the  critical  acquaintance  with  the 
great  poets  and  historians  of  antiquity,  and  ap 
parently  an  appreciation  of  their  merits,  and 
power  to  teach  their  beauty.  So  the  boy  had 
an  able  tutor,  capable,  it  would  seem,  of  show 
ing  him  the  way  to  the  graces  he  did  not  him 
self  possess  ;  besides  helping  the  growth  of  the 
strength  without  which  refinement  is  but  sickly 
and  disgusting. 

Another  sort  of  culture,  which  it  seemed  odd 
that  this  rude  man  should  undertake,  was  that 
of  manners ;  but,  in  fact,  rude  as  the  grim 
Doctor's  own  manners  were,  he  was  one  of  the 
nicest  and  severest  censors  in  that  department 
that  was  ever  known.  It  is  difficult  to  account 
for  this  ;  although  it  is  almost  invariably  found 
that  persons  in  a  low  rank  of  life,  such  as  ser 
vants  and  laborers,  will  detect  the  false  pre 
tender  to  the  character  of  a  gentleman,  with  at 
least  as  sure  an  instinct  as  the  class  into  which 
they  seek  to  thrust  themselves.  Perhaps  they 
44 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

recognize  something  akin  to  their  own  vulgar 
ity,  rather  than  appreciate  what  is  unlike  them 
selves.  The  Doctor  possessed  a  peculiar  power 
of  rich  rough  humor  on  this  subject,  and  used 
to  deliver  lectures,,  as  it  were,  to  little  Ned, 
illustrated  with  sketches  of  living  individuals 
in  the  town  where  they  dwelt ;  by  an  unscru 
pulous  use  of  whom  he  sought  to  teach  the 
boy  what  to  avoid  in  manners,  if  he  sought  to 
be  a  gentleman.  But  it  must  be  confessed  he 
spared  himself  as  little  as  other  people,  and 
often  wound  up  with  this  compendious  injunc 
tion,  —  "  Be  everything  in  your  behavior  that 
Doctor  Grim  is  not !  " 

His  pupil,  very  probably,  profited  somewhat 
by  these  instructions  ;  for  there  are  specialties 
and  arbitrary  rules  of  behavior  which  do  not 
come  by  nature.  But  these  are  few  ;  and  beau 
tiful,  noble,  and  genial  manners  may  almost 
be  called  a  natural  gift  ;  and  these,  however  he 
inherited  them,  soon  proved  to  be  an  inherent 
possession  of  little  Ned.  He  had  a  kind  of 
natural  refinement,  which  nothing  could  ever 
soil  or  offend  ;  it  seemed,  by  some  magic  or 
other,  absolutely  to  keep  him  from  the  know 
ledge  of  much  of  the  grim  Doctor's  rude  and 
sordid  exterior,  and  to  render  what  was  around 
him  beautiful  by  a  sort  of  affiliation,  or  reflec 
tion  from  that  quality  in  himself,  glancing  its 
white  light  upon  it.  The  Doctor  himself  was 

45 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

puzzled,  and  apparently  both  startled  and  de« 
lighted  at  the  perception  of  these  characteristics. 
Sometimes  he  would  make  a  low,  uncouth  bow, 
after  his  fashion,  to  the  little  fellow,  saying, 
"  Allow  me  to  kiss  your  hand,  my  lord  ! "  and 
little  Ned,  not  quite  knowing  what  the  grim 
Doctor  meant,  yet  allowed  the  favor  he  asked, 
with  a  grave  and  gracious  condescension  that 
seemed  much  to  delight  the  suitor.  This  re 
fusal  to  recognize  or  to  suspect  that  the  Doctor 
might  be  laughing  at  him  was  a  sure  token,  at 
any  rate,  of  the  lack  of  one  vulgar  characteristic 
in  little  Ned. 

In  order  to  afford  little  Ned  every  advantage 
to  these  natural  gifts,  Doctor  Grim  nevertheless 
failed  not  to  provide  the  best  attainable  instruc 
tor  for  such  positive  points  of  a  polite  educa 
tion  as  his  own  fierce  criticism,  being  destructive 
rather  than  generative,  would  not  suffice  for. 
There  was  a  Frenchman  in  the  town  —  a  M.  Le 
Grand,  secretly  calling  himself  a  Count  —  who 
taught  the  little  people,  and,  indeed,  some  of 
their  elders,  the  Parisian  pronunciation  of  his 
own  language ;  and  likewise  dancing  (in  which 
he  was  more  of  an  adept  and  more  successful 
than  in  the  former  branch)  and  fencing :  in 
which,  after  looking  at  a  lesson  or  two,  the  grim 
Doctor  was  satisfied  of  his  skill.  Under  his 
instruction,  with  the  stimulus  of  the  Doctor's 
praise  and  criticism,  Ned  soon  grew  to  be  the 
46 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

pride  of  the  Frenchman's  school,  in  both  the 
active  departments  ;  and  the  Doctor  himself 
added  a  further  gymnastic  acquirement  (not 
absolutely  necessary,  he  said,  to  a  gentleman's 
education,  but  very  desirable  to  a  man  perfect 
at  all  points)  by  teaching  him  cudgel-playing 
and  pugilism.  In  short,  in  everything  that  re 
lated  to  accomplishments,  whether  of  mind  or 
body,  no  pains  were  spared  with  little  Ned  ; 
but  of  the  utilitarian  line  of  education,  then  al 
most  exclusively  adopted,  and  especially  desir 
able  for  a  fortuneless  boy  like  Ned,  dependent 
on  a  man  not  wealthy,  there  was  little  given. 

At  first,  too,  the  Doctor  paid  little  attention 
to  the  moral  and  religious  culture  of  his  pupil ; 
nor  did  he  ever  make  a  system  of  it.  But  by 
and  by,  though  with  a  singular  reluctance  and 
kind  of  bashfulness,  he  began  to  extend  his  care 
to  these  matters  ;  being  drawn  into  them  un 
awares,  and  possibly  perceiving  and  learning 
what  he  taught  as  he  went  along.  One  even 
ing,  I  know  not  how,  he  was  betrayed  into 
speaking  on  this  point,  and  a  sort  of  inspiration 
seized  him.  A  vista  opened  before  him  :  han 
dling  an  immortal  spirit,  he  began  to  know  its 
requisitions,  in  a  degree  far  beyond  what  he  had 
conceived  them  to  be  when  his  great  task  was 
undertaken.  His  voice  grew  deep,  and  had  a 
strange,  impressive  pathos  in  it ;  his  talk  be 
came  eloquent  with  depth  of  meaning  and  feel- 
47 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

ing,  as  he  told  the  boy  of  the  moral  dangers  of 
the  world,  for  which  he  was  seeking  to  educate 
him  ;  and  which,  he  said,  presented  what  looked 
like  great  triumphs,  and  yet  were  the  greatest 
and  saddest  of  defeats.  He  told  him  that  many 
things  that  seemed  nearest  and  dearest  to  the 
heart  of  man  were  destructive,  eating  and  gnaw 
ing  away  and  corroding  what  was  best  in  him  ; 
and  what  a  high,  noble,  re-creating  triumph  it 
was  when  these  dark  impulses  were  resisted  and 
overthrown  ;  and  how,  from  that  epoch,  the  soul 
took  a  new  start.  He  denounced  the  selfish 
greed  of  gold,  lawless  passion,  revenge,  —  and 
here  the  grim  Doctor  broke  out  into  a  strange 
passion  and  zeal  of  anathema  against  this  deadly 
sin,  making  a  dreadful  picture  of  the  ruin  that 
it  creates  in  the  heart  where  it  establishes  itself, 
and  how  it  makes  a  corrosive  acid  of  those  gen 
ial  juices.  Then  he  told  the  boy  that  the  con 
dition  of  all  good  was,  in  the  first  place,  truth  ; 
then,  courage  ;  then,  justice  ;  then,  mercy ;  out 
of  which  principles  operating  upon  one  another 
would  come  all  brave,  noble,  high,  unselfish  ac 
tions,  and  the  scorn  of  all  mean  ones  ;  and  how 
that  from  such  a  nature  all  hatred  would  fall 
away,  and  all  good  affections  would  be  ennobled. 
I  know  not  at  what  point  it  was,  precisely,  in 
these  ethical  instructions  that  an  insight  seemed 
to  strike  the  grim  Doctor  that  something  more 
—  vastly  more  —  was  needed  than  all  he  had 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

said ;  and  he  began,  doubtfully,  to  speak  of 
man's  spiritual  nature  and  its  demands,  and  the 
emptiness  of  everything  which  a  sense  of  these 
demands  did  not  pervade,  and  condense,  and 
weighten  into  realities.  And  going  on  in  this 
strain,  he  soared  out  of  himself  and  astonished 
the  two  children,  who  stood  gazing  at  him,  won 
dering  whether  it  were  the  Doctor  who  was 
speaking  thus  ;  until  some  interrupting  circum 
stance  seemed  to  bring  him  back  to  himself,  and 
he  burst  into  one  of  his  great  roars  of  laughter. 
The  inspiration,  the  strange  light  whereby  he 
had  been  transfigured,  passed  out  of  his  face  ; 
and  there  was  the  uncouth,  wild-bearded,  rough, 
earthy,  passionate  man,  whom  they  called  Doc 
tor  Grim,  looking  ashamed  of  himself,  and  try 
ing  to  turn  the  whole  matter  into  a  jest.2 

It  was  a  sad  pity  that  he  should  have  been 
interrupted,  and  brought  into  this  mocking 
mood,  just  when  he  seemed  to  have  broken 
away  from  the  sinfulness  of  his  hot,  evil  nature, 
and  to  have  soared  into  a  region  where,  with  all 
his  native  characteristics  transfigured,  he  seemed 
to  have  become  an  angel  in  his  own  likeness. 
Crusty  Hannah,  who  had  been  drawn  to  the 
door  of  the  study  by  the  unusual  tones  of  his 
voice,  —  a  kind  of  piercing  sweetness  in  it,  — 
always  averred  that  she  saw  the  gigantic  spider 
swooping  round  his  head  in  great  crafty  circles, 
and  clutching,  as  it  were,  at  his  brain  with  its 

49 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

great  claws.  But  it  was  the  old  woman's  absurd 
idea  that  this  hideous  insect  was  the  Devil, 
in  that  ugly  guise,  —  a  superstition  which 
deserves  absolutely  no  countenance.  Never 
theless,  though  this  paroxysm  of  devotional  feel 
ing  and  insight  returned  no  more  to  the  grim 
Doctor,  it  was  ever  after  a  memorable  occasion 
to  the  two  children.  It  touched  that  religious 
chord,  in  both  their  hearts,  which  there  was  no 
mother  to  touch  ;  but  now  it  vibrated  long,  and 
never  ceased  to  vibrate  so  long  as  they  remained 
together,  —  nor,  perhaps,  after  they  were  parted 
from  each  other  and  from  the  grim  Doctor. 
And  even  then,  in  those  after  years,  the  strange 
music  that  had  been  awakened  was  continued, 
as  it  were  the  echo  from  harps  on  high.  Now, 
at  all  events,  they  made  little  prayers  for  them 
selves,  and  said  them  at  bedtime,  generally  in 
secret,  sometimes  in  unison ;  and  they  read  in 
an  old  dusty  Bible  which  lay  among  the  grim 
Doctor's  books  ;  and  from  little  heathens,  they 
became  Christian  children.  Doctor  Grimshawe 
was  perhaps  conscious  of  this  result  of  his  in 
voluntary  preachment,  but  he  never  directly 
noticed  it,  and  did  nothing  either  to  efface  or 
deepen  the  impression. 

It  was  singular,  however,  that,  in  both  the 
children's  minds,  this  one  gush  of  irresistible 
religious  sentiment,  breaking  out  of  the  grim 
Doctor's  inner  depths,  like  a  sort  of  holy  lava 

50 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

from  a  volcano  that  usually  emitted  quite  other 
matter  (such  as  hot,  melted  wrath  and  hate), 
quite  threw  out  of  sight,  then  and  always  after 
wards,  his  darker  characteristics.  They  remem 
bered  him,  with  faith  and  love,  as  a  religious 
man,  and  forgot  —  what  perhaps  had  made  no 
impression  on  their  innocent  hearts  —  all  the 
traits  that  other  people  might  have  called  devil 
ish.  To  them  the  grim  Doctor  was  a  saint, 
even  during  his  lifetime  and  constant  intercourse 
with  them,  and  canonized  forever  afterwards. 
There  is  almost  always,  to  be  sure,  this  pro 
found  faith,  with  regard  to  those  they  love,  in 
childhood ;  but  perhaps,  in  this  instance,  the 
children  really  had  a  depth  of  insight  that  grown 
people  lacked ;  a  profound  recognition  of  the 
bottom  of  this  strange  man's  nature,  which  was 
of  such  stuff  as  martyrs  and  heroic  saints  might 
have  been  made  of,  though  here  it  had  been 
wrought  miserably  amiss.  At  any  rate,  his  face 
with  the  holy  awe  upon  it  was  what  they  saw 
and  remembered,  when  they  thought  of  their 
friend  Doctor  Grim. 

One  effect  of  his  zealous  and  analytic  instruc 
tion  of  the  boy  was  very  perceptible.  Hereto 
fore,  though  enduring  him,  and  occasionally 
making  a  plaything  of  him,  it  may  be  doubted 
whether  the  grim  Doctor  had  really  any  strong 
affection  for  the  child :  it  rather  seemed  as  if 
his  strong  will  were  forcing  him  to  undertake, 

51 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

and  carry  sedulously  forward,  a  self-imposed 
task.  All  that  he  had  done  —  his  redeeming 
the  bright  child  from  poverty  and  nameless  de 
gradation,  ignorance,  and  a  sordid  life  hopeless 
of  better  fortune,  and  opening  to  him  the  whole 
realm  of  mighty  possibilities  in  an  American 
life  —  did  not  imply  any  love  for  the  little  indi 
vidual  whom  he  thus  benefited.  It  had  some 
other  motive. 

But  now,  approaching  the  child  in  this  close, 
intimate,  and  helpful  way,  it  was  very  evident 
that  his  interest  took  a  tenderer  character. 
There  was  everything  in  the  boy,  that  a  boy 
could  possess,  to  attract  affection  ;  he  would 
have  been  a  father's  pride  and  joy.  Doctor 
Grimshawe,  indeed,  was  not  his  father ;  but  to 
a  person  of  his  character  this  was  perhaps  no 
cause  of  lesser  love  than  if  there  had  been  the 
whole  of  that  holy  claim  of  kindred  between 
them.  We  speak  of  the  natural  force  of  blood  ; 
we  speak  of  the  paternal  relation  as  if  it  were 
productive  of  more  earnest  affection  than  can 
exist  between  two  persons,  one  of  whom  is  pro 
tective,  but  unrelated.  But  there  are  wild,  for 
cible,  unrestricted  characters,  on  whom  the  ne 
cessity  and  even  duty  of  loving  their  own  child 
is  a  sort  of  barrier  to  love.  They  perhaps  do 
not  love  their  own  traits,  which  they  recognize 
in  their  children  ;  they  shrink  from  their  own 
features  in  the  reflection  presented  by  these  lit- 

52 


DOCTOR  GRLMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

tie  mirrors.  A  certain  strangeness  and  unlike- 
ness  (such  as  gives  poignancy  to  the  love  be 
tween  the  sexes)  would  excite  a  livelier  affection. 
Be  this  as  it  may,  it  is  not  probable  that  Doctor 
Grimshawe  would  have  loved  a  child  of  his  own 
blood,  with  the  coarse  characteristics  that  he 
knew  both  in  his  race  and  himself,  with  nearly 
such  fervor  as  this  beautiful,  slender,  yet  strenu 
ous,  intelligent,  refined  boy,  —  with  such  a  high 
bred  air,  handling  common  things  with  so  re 
fined  a  touch,  yet  grasping  them  so  firmly ; 
throwing  a  natural  grace  on  all  he  did.  Was 
he  not  his  father,  —  he  that  took  this  fair  blos 
som  out  of  the  sordid  mud  in  which  he  must 
soon  have  withered  and  perished  ?  Was  not 
this  beautiful  strangeness,  which  he  so  wondered 
at,  the  result  of  his  care  ? 

And  little  Elsie  ?  did  the  grim  Doctor  love 
her  as  well  ?  Perhaps  not,  for,  in  the  first 
place,  there  was  a  natural  tie,  though  not  the 
nearest,  between  her  and  Doctor  Grimshawe, 
which  made  him  feel  that  she  was  cast  upon  his 
love  :  a  burden  which  he  acknowledged  himself 
bound  to  undertake.  Then,  too,  there  were 
unutterably  painful  reminiscences  and  thoughts, 
that  made  him  gasp  for  breath,  that  turned  his 
blood  sour,  that  tormented  his  dreams  with 
nightmares  and  hellish  phantoms  ;  all  of  which 
were  connected  with  this  innocent  and  happy 
child  ;  so  that,  cheerful  and  pleasant  as  she  was, 

53 


V 

DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

there  was  to  the  grim  Doctor  a  little  fiend  play 
ing  about  his  floor  and  throwing  a  lurid  light 
on  the  wall,  as  the  shadow  of  this  sun-flickering 
child.  It  is  certain  that  there  was  always  a  pain 
and  horror  mixed  with  his  feelings  towards 
Elsie ;  he  had  to  forget  himself,  as  it  were,  and 
all  that  was  connected  with  the  causes  why  she 
came  to  be,  before  he  could  love  her.  Amid 
his  fondness,  when  he  was  caressing  her  upon 
his  knee,  pressing  her  to  his  rough  bosom,  as 
he  never  took  the  freedom  to  press  Ned,  came 
these  hateful  reminiscences,  compelling  him  to 
set  her  down,  and  corrugating  his  heavy  brows 
as  with  a  pang  of  fiercely  resented,  strongly 
borne  pain.  Still,  the  child  had  no  doubt  con 
trived  to  make  her  way  into  the  great  gloomy 
cavern  of  the  grim  Doctor's  heart,  and  stole 
constantly  further  and  further  in,  carrying  a  ray 
of  sunshine  in  her  hand  as  a  taper  to  light  her 
way,  and  illuminate  the  rude  dark  pit  into  which 
she  so  fearlessly  went. 

54 


CHAPTER  V 

DOCTOR  GRIM '  had  the  English  faith 
in  open  air  and  daily  acquaintance  with 
the  weather,  whatever  it  might  be;  and 
it  was  his  habit,  not  only  to  send  the  two  chil 
dren  to  play,  for  lack  of  a  better  place,  in  the 
graveyard,  but  to  take  them  himself  on  long 
rambles,  of  which  the  vicinity  of  the  town  af 
forded  a  rich  variety.  It  may  be  that  the  Doc 
tor's  excursions  had  the  wider  scope,  because 
both  he  and  the  children  were  objects  of  curi 
osity  in  the  town,  and  very  much  the  subject 
of  its  gossip :  so  that  always,  in  its  streets  and 
lanes,  the  people  turned  to  gaze,  and  came  to 
their  windows  and  to  the  doors  of  shops  to  see 
this  grim,  bearded  figure,  leading  along  the 
beautiful  children  each  by  a  hand,  with  a  surly 
aspect  like  a  bulldog.  Their  remarks  were 
possibly  not  intended  to  reach  the  ears  of  the 
party,  but  certainly  were  not  so  cautiously  whis 
pered  but  they  occasionally  did  do  so.  The 
male  remarks,  indeed,  generally  died  away  in 
the  throats  that  uttered  them  ;  a  circumstance 
that  doubtless  saved  the  utterer  from  some  very 
rough  rejoinder  at  the  hands  of  the  Doctor, 
who  had  grown  up  in  the  habit  of  a  very  ready 

55 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

and  free  recourse  to  his  fists,  which  had  a  way 
of  doubling  themselves  up  seemingly  of  their 
own  accord.  But  the  shrill  feminine  voices 
sometimes  sent  their  observations  from  window 
to  window  without  dread  of  any  such  repartee 
on  the  part  of  the  subject  of  them. 

"  There  he  goes,  the  old  Spider-witch ! "  quoth 
one  shrill  woman,  "  with  those  two  poor  babes 
that  he  has  caught  in  his  cobweb,  and  is  going 
to  feed  upon,  poor  little  tender  things !  The 
bloody  Englishman  makes  free  with  the  dead 
bodies  of  our  friends  and  the  living  ones  of  our 
children  ! " 

"  How  red  his  nose  is  !  "  quoth  another;  "he 
has  pulled  at  the  brandy  bottle  pretty  stoutly 
to-day,  early  as  it  is  !  Pretty  habits  those  chil 
dren  will  learn,  between  the  Devil  in  the  shape 
of  a  great  spider,  and  this  devilish  fellow  in  his 
own  shape  !  It  were  well  that  our  townsmen 
tarred  and  feathered  the  old  British  wizard  ! " 

And,  as  he  got  further  off,  two  or  three  little 
blackguard  barefoot  boys  shouted  shrilly  after 
him,  — 

"  Doctor  Grim,  Doctor  Grim, 

The  Devil  wove  a  web  for  him  !  " 

being  a  nonsensical  couplet  that  had  been  made 
for  the  grim  Doctor's  benefit,  and  was  hooted 
in  the  streets,  and  under  his  own  windows. 
Hearing  such  remarks  and  insults,  the  Doctor 
would  glare  round  at  them  with  red  eyes,  espe- 

56 


There  be  goes,  the  old  spider-witch  !  " 


I 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

daily  if  the  brandy  bottle  had  happened  to  be 
much  in  request  that  day. 

Indeed,  poor  Doctor  Grim  had  met  with  a 
fortune  which  befalls  many  a  man  with  less 
cause  than  drew  the  public  attention  on  this  odd 
humorist;  for,  dwelling  in  a  town  which  was 
as  yet  but  a  larger  village,  where  everybody 
knew  everybody,  and  claimed  the  privilege  to 
know  and  discuss  their  characters,  and  where 
there  were  few  topics  of  public  interest  to  take 
off  their  attention,  a  very  considerable  portion 
of  town  talk  and  criticism  fell  upon  him.  The 
old  town  had  a  certain  provincialism,  which  is 
less  the  characteristic  of  towns  in  these  days, 
when  society  circulates  so  freely,  than  then :  be 
sides,  it  was  a  very  rude  epoch,  just  when  the 
country  had  come  through  the  war  of  the  Re 
volution,  and  while  the  surges  of  that  commotion 
were  still  seething  and  swelling,  and  while  the 
habits  and  morals  of  every  individual  in  the  com 
munity  still  felt  its  influence  ;  and  especially  the 
contest  was  too  recent  for  an  Englishman  to  be 
in  very  good  odor,  unless  he  should  cease  to 
be  English,  and  become  more  American  than 
the  Americans  themselves  in  repudiating  Brit 
ish  prejudices  or  principles,  habits,  mode  of 
thought,  and  everything  that  distinguishes  Brit 
ons  at  home  or  abroad.  As  Doctor  Grim  did 
not  see  fit  to  do  this,  and  as,  moreover,  he  was 
a  very  doubtful,  questionable,  morose,  unami- 

57 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

able  old  fellow,  not  seeking  to  make  himself 
liked  nor  deserving  to  be  so,  he  was  a  very  un 
popular  person  in  the  town  where  he  had  chosen 
to  reside.  Nobody  thought  very  well  of  him  ; 
the  respectable  people  had  heard  of  his  pipe  and 
brandy  bottle  ;  the  religious  community  knew 
that  he  never  showed  himself  at  church  or  meet 
ing  ;  so  that  he  had  not  that  very  desirable 
strength  (in  a  society  split  up  into  many  sects) 
of  being  able  to  rely  upon  the  party  sympathies 
of  any  one  of  them.  The  mob  hated  him  with 
the  blind  sentiment  that  makes  one  surly  cur 
hostile  to  another  surly  cur.  He  was  the  most 
isolated  individual  to  be  found  anywhere  ;  and, 
being  so  unsupported,  everybody  was  his  enemy. 
The  town,  as  it  happened,  had  been  pleased 
to  interest  itself  much  in  this  matter  of  Doctor 
Grim  and  the  two  children,  insomuch  as  he  never 
sent  them  to  school,  nor  came  with  them  to  meet 
ing  of  any  kind,  but  was  bringing  them  up  igno 
rant  heathen  to  all  appearances,  and,  as  many 
believed,  was  devoting  them  in  some  way  to  the 
great  spider,  to  which  he  had  bartered  his  own 
soul.  It  had  been  mooted  among  the  select 
men,  the  fathers  of  the  town,  whether  their  duty 
did  not  require  them  to  put  the  children  under 
more  suitable  guardianship  ;  a  measure  which, 
it  may  be,  was  chiefly  hindered  by  the  consider 
ation  that,  in  that  case,  the  cost  of  supporting 
them  would  probably  be  transferred  from  the 

58 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

grim  Doctor's  shoulders  to  those  of  the  com 
munity.    Nevertheless,  they  did  what  they  could. 
Maidenly  ladies,  prim  and  starched,  in  one  or 
two  instances  called  upon  the  Doctor  —  the  two 
children  meanwhile  being  in  the  graveyard  at 
play  —  to  give  him  Christian  advice  as  to  the 
management  of  his  charge.    But,  to  confess  the 
truth,  the  Doctor's  reception  of  these  fair  mis 
sionaries  was  not  extremely  courteous.     They 
were,  perhaps,   partly  instigated   by   a*  natural 
feminine  desire  to  see  the  interior  of  a  place 
about   which    they   had   heard   much,  with   its 
spiders'  webs,  its  strange  machines  and  confus 
ing  tools  ;  so,  much  contrary  to  crusty  Hannah's 
advice,  they  persisted  in  entering.    Crusty  Han 
nah  listened  at  the  door ;  and  it  was  curious  to 
see  the  delighted  smile  which  came  over  her  dry 
old  visage  as  the  Doctor's  growling,  rough  voice, 
after  an  abrupt  question  or  two,  and  a  reply  in 
a  thin  voice  on  the  part  of  the  maiden  ladies, 
grew  louder  and  louder,  till  the  door  opened, 
and  forth  came  the  benevolent  pair  in  great  dis 
composure.    Crusty  Hannah  averred  that  their 
caps  were  much  rumpled  ;  but  this  view  of  the 
thing  was  questioned ;   though  it  were  certain 
that  the  Doctor  called  after  them   downstairs, 
that,  had  they  been  younger  and  prettier,  they 
would  have  fared  worse.     A  male  emissary,  who 
was  admitted  on  the  supposition  of  his  being  a 
patient,  did  fare  worse ;  for  (the  grim   Doctor 

59 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

having  been  particularly  intimate  with  the  black 
bottle  that  afternoon)  there  was,  about  ten  min 
utes  after  the  visitor's  entrance,  a  sudden  fierce 
upraising  of  the  Doctor's  growl  ;  then  a  strug 
gle  that  shook  the  house;  and,  finally,  a  terrible 
rumbling  down  the  stairs,  which  proved  to  be 
caused  by  the  precipitate  descent  of  the  hapless 
visitor;  who,  if  he  needed  no  assistance  of  the 
grim  Doctor  on  his  entrance,  certainly  would 
have  been  the  better  for  a  plaster  or  two  after 
his  departure. 

Such  were  the  terms  on  which  Doctor  Grim- 
shawe  now  stood  with  his  adopted  townspeople  ; 
and  if  we  consider  the  dull  little  town  to  be  full 
of  exaggerated  stories  about  the  Doctor's  odd 
ities,  many  of  them  forged,  all  retailed  in  an 
unfriendly  spirit ;  misconceptions  of  a  character 
which,  in  its  best  and  most  candidly  interpreted 
aspects,  was  sufficiently  amenable  to  censure ; 
surmises  taken  for  certainties  ;  superstitions  — 
the  genuine  hereditary  offspring  of  the  frame  of 
public  mind  which  produced  the  witchcraft  de 
lusion  —  all  fermenting  together  ;  and  all  this 
evil  and  uncharitableness  taking  the  delusive  hue 
of  benevolent  interest  in  two  helpless  children  ; 
—  we  may  partly  judge  what  was  the  odium  in 
which  the  grim  Doctor  dwelt,  and  amid  which 
he  walked.  The  horrid  suspicion,  too,  counte 
nanced  by  his  abode  in  the  corner  of  the  grave 
yard,  affording  the  terrible  Doctor  such  facili- 

60 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

ties  for  making  free,  like  a  ghoul  as  he  was,  with 
the  relics  of  mortality  from  the  earliest  progen 
itor  to  the  man  killed  yesterday  by  the  Doctor's 
own  drugs,  was  not  likely  to  improve  his  repu 
tation. 

He  had  heretofore  contented  himself  with, 
at  most,  occasionally  shaking  his  stick  at  his  as 
sailants  ;  but  this  day  the  black  bottle  had  im 
parted,  it  may  be,  a  little  more  fire  than  ordi 
nary  to  his  blood ;  and  besides,  an  unlucky 
urchin  happened  to  take  particularly  good  aim 
with  a  mud-ball,  which  took  effect  right  in  the 
midst  of  the  Doctor's  bushy  beard,  and,  being 
of  a  soft  consistency,  forthwith  became  incorpo 
rated  with  it.  At  this  intolerable  provocation 
the  grim  Doctor  pursued  the  little  villain,  amid 
a  shower  of  similar  missiles  from  the  boy's  play 
mates,  caught  him  as  he  was  escaping  into  a 
back  yard,  dragged  him  into  the  middle  of  the 
street,  and,  with  his  stick,  proceeded  to  give  him 
his  merited  chastisement. 

But,  hereupon,  it  was  astonishing  how  sud 
den  commotion  flashed  up  like  gunpowder  along 
the  street,  which,  except  for  the  petty  shrieks 
and  laughter  of  a  few  children,  was  just  before 
so  quiet.  Forth  out  of  every  window  in  those 
dusky,  mean  wooden  houses  were  thrust  heads 
of  women,  old  and  young  ;  forth  out  of  every 
door  and  other  avenue,  and  as  if  they  started  up 
from  the  middle  of  the  street  or  out  of  the  un- 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

paved  sidewalks,  rushed  fierce  avenging  forms, 
threatening  at  full  yell  to  take  vengeance  on  the 
grim  Doctor ;  who  still,  with  that  fierce  dark 
face  of  his,  —  his  muddy  beard  all  flying  abroad, 
dirty  and  foul,  his  hat  fallen  off,  his  red  eyes  flash 
ing  fire,  —  was  belaboring  the  poor  hinder  end 
of  the  unhappy  urchin,  paying  off  upon  that  one 
part  of  the  boy's  frame  the  whole  score  which 
he  had  to  settle  with  the  rude  boys  of  the  town  ; 
giving  him  at  once  the  whole  whipping  which 
he  had  deserved  every  day  of  his  life,  and  not 
a  stroke  of  which  he  had  yet  received.  Need 
enough  there  was,  no  doubt,  that  somebody 
should  interfere  with  such  grim  and  immitiga 
ble  justice  ;  and  certainly  the  interference  was 
prompt,  and  promised  to  be  effectual. 

"  Down  with  the  old  tyrant !  Thrash  him  ! 
Hang  him  !  Tar  and  feather  the  viper's  fry ! 
the  wizard  !  the  body-snatcher !  "  bellowed  the 
mob,  one  member  of  which  was  raving  with  de 
lirium  tremens,  and  another  was  a  madman  just 
escaped  from  bedlam. 

It  is  unaccountable  where  all  this  mischievous, 
bloodthirsty  multitude  came  from,  —  how  they 
were  born  into  that  quietness  in  such  a  moment 
of  time  !  What  had  they  been  about  hereto 
fore  ?  Were  they  waiting  in  readiness  for  this 
crisis,  and  keeping  themselves  free  from  other 
employment  till  it  should  come  to  pass  ?  Had 
they  been  created  for  the  moment,  or  were  they 

62 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

fiends  sent  by  Satan  in  the  likeness  of  a  black 
guard  population  ?  There  you  might  see  the 
offscourings  of  the  recently  finished  war,  —  old 
soldiers,  rusty,  wooden-legged;  there,  sailors, 
ripe  for  any  kind  of  mischief ;  there,  the  drunken 
population  of  a  neighboring  grogshop,  stagger 
ing  helter-skelter  to  the  scene,  and  tumbling 
over  one  another  at  the  Doctor's  feet.  There 
came  the  father  of  the  punished  urchin,  who  had 
never  shown  heretofore  any  care  for  his  street- 
bred  progeny,  but  who  now  came  pale  with  rage, 
armed  with  a  pair  of  tongs ;  and  with  him  the 
mother,  flying  like  a  fury,  with  her  cap  awry, 
and  clutching  a  broomstick,  as  if  she  were  a 
witch  just  alighted.  Up  they  rushed  from  cel 
lar  doors,  and  dropped  down  from  chamber 
windows ;  all  rushing  upon  the  Doctor,  but  over 
turning  and  thwarting  themselves  by  their  very 
multitude.  For,  as  good  Doctor  Grim  levelled 
the  first  that  came  within  reach  of  his  fist,  two 
or  three  of  the  others  tumbled  over  him  and  lay 
grovelling  at  his  feet ;  the  Doctor  meanwhile 
having  retreated  into  the  angle  between  two 
houses.  Little  Ned,  with  a  valor  which  did 
him  the  more  credit  inasmuch  as  it  was  exer 
cised  in  spite  of  a  good  deal  of  childish  trepida 
tion,  as  his  pale  face  indicated,  brandished  his 
fists  by  the  Doctor's  side ;  and  little  Elsie  did 
what  any  woman  may,  —  that  is,  screeched  in 
Doctor  Grim's  behalf  with  full  stretch  of  lungs. 

63 


n 


DOCTOR  GRIMSH AWE'S  SECRET 

Meanwhile  the  street  boys  kept  up  a  shower  of 
mud-balls,  many  of  which  hit  the  doctor,  while 
the  rest  were  distributed  upon  his  assailants, 
heightening  their  ferocity. 

"  Seize  the  old  scoundrel !  the  villain  !  the 
Tory  !  the  dastardly  Englishman  !  Hang  him 
in  the  web  of  his  own  devilish  spider, —  'tis 
long  enough  !  Tar  and  feather  him  !  tar  and 
feather  him  !  " 

It  was  certainly  one  of  those  crises  that  show 
a  man  how  few  real  friends  he  has,  and  the  tend 
ency  of  mankind  to  stand  aside,  at  least,  and 
let  a  poor  devil  fight  his  own  troubles,  if  not  as 
sist  them  in  their  attack.  Here  you  might  have 
seen  a  brother  physician  of  the  grim  Doctor's 
greatly  tickled  at  his  plight ;  or  a  decorous,  pow 
dered,  ruffle-shirted  dignitary,  one  of  the  weighty 
men  of  the  town,  standing  at  a  neighbor's  corner 
to  see  what  would  come  of  it. 

"  He  is  not  a  respectable  man,  I  understand, 
this  Grimshawe,  —  a  quack,  intemperate,  always 
in  these  scuffles  :  let  him  get  out  as  he  may  !  " 

And  then  comes  a  deacon  of  one  of  the 
churches,  and  several  church  members,  who, 
hearing  a  noise,  set  out  gravely  and  decorously 
to  see  what  was  going  forward  in  a  Christian 
community. 

"  Ah  !  it  is  that  irreligious  and  profane  Grim 
shawe,  who  never  goes  to  meeting.  We  wash 
our  hands  of  him  !  " 

64 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

And  one  of  the  selectmen  said  :  — 

"  Surely  this  common  brawler  ought  not  to 
have  the  care  of  these  nice,  sweet  children ; 
something  must  be  done  about  it ;  and  when 
the  man  is  sober,  he  must  be  talked  to  !  " 

Alas  !  it  is  a  hard  case  with  a  man  who  lives 
upon  his  own  bottom  and  responsibility,  making 
himself  no  allies,  sewing  himself  on  to  nobody's 
skirts,  insulating  himself,  —  hard,  when  his 
trouble  comes  ;  and  so  poor  Doctor  Grim- 
shawe  was  like  to  find  it. 

He  had  succeeded  by  dint  of  good  skill,  and 
some  previous  practice  at  quarterstaff,  in  keep 
ing  his  assailants  at  bay,  though  not  without 
some  danger  on  his  own  part ;  but  their  num 
ber,  their  fierceness,  and  the  more  skilled  assault 
of  some  among  them  must  almost  immediately 
have  been  successful,  when  the  Doctor's  part 
was  strengthened  by  an  unexpected  ally.  This 
was  a  person 2  of  tall,  slight  figure,  who,  without 
lifting  his  hands  to  take  part  in  the  conflict, 
thrust  himself  before  the  Doctor,  and  turned 
towards  the  assailants,  crying  :  — 

"  Christian  men,  what  would  you  do  ?  Peace, 
—  peace !  " 

His  so  well-intended  exhortation  took  effect, 
indeed,  in  a  certain  way,  but  not  precisely  as 
might  have  been  wished ;  for  a  blow,  aimed  at 
Doctor  Grim,  took  effect  on  the  head  of  this 
man,  who  seemed  to  have  no  sort  of  skill  or 

65 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

alacrity  at  defending  himself,  any  more  than  at 
making  an  assault ;  for  he  never  lifted  his  hands, 
but  took  the  blow  as  unresistingly  as  if  it  had 
been  kindly  meant,  and  it  levelled  him  sense 
less  on  the  ground. 

Had  the  mob  really  been  enraged  for  any 
strenuous  cause,  this  incident  would  have  oper 
ated  merely  as  a  preliminary  whet  to  stimulate 
them  to  further  bloodshed.  But,  as  they  were 
mostly  actuated  only  by  a  natural  desire  for  mis 
chief,  they  were  about  as  well  satisfied  with  what 
had  been  done  as  if  the  Doctor  himself  were  the 
victim.  And  besides,  the  fathers  and  respecta 
bilities  of  the  town,  who  had  seen  this  mishap 
from  afar,  now  began  to  put  forward,  crying  out, 
"  Keep  the  peace !  keep  the  peace  !  A  riot !  a 
riot!  "  and  other  such  cries  as  suited  the  emer 
gency  ;  and  the  crowd  vanished  more  speedily 
than  it  had  congregated,  leaving  the  Doctor  and 
the  two  children  alone  beside  the  fallen  victim 
of  a  quarrel  not  his  own.  Not  to  dwell  too  long 
on  this  incident,  the  Doctor,  laying  hold  of  the 
last  of  his  enemies,  after  the  rest  had  taken  to 
their  heels,  ordered  him  sternly  to  stay  and  help 
him  bear  the  man,  whom  he  had  helped  to  mur 
der,  to  his  house. 

"It  concerns  you,  friend  ;  for,  if  he  dies,  you 
hang  to  a  dead  certainty  !  " 

And  this  was  done  accordingly. 
66 


CHAPTER  VI 

A3UT  an  hour  thereafter  there  lay  on  a 
couch  that  had  been  hastily  prepared  in 
the  study  a  person  of  singularly  impres 
sive  presence  :  a  thin,  mild-looking  man,  with 
a  peculiar  look  of  delicacy  and  natural  refinement 
about  him,  although  he  scarcely  appeared  to  be 
technically  and  as  to  worldly  position  what  we 
call  a  gentleman ;  plain  in  dress  and  simple 
in  manner,  not  giving  the  idea  of  remarkable 
intellectual  gifts,  but  with  a  kind  of  spiritual 
aspect,  fair,  clear  complexion,  gentle  eyes,  still 
somewhat  clouded  and  obscured  by  the  syncope 
into  which  a  blow  on  the  head  had  thrown  him. 
He  looked  middle-aged,  and  yet  there  was  a 
kind  of  childlike,  simple  expression,  which,  un 
less  you  looked  at  him  with  the  very  purpose 
of  seeing  the  traces  of  time  in  his  face,  would 
make  you  suppose  him  much  younger. 

"  And  how  do  you  find  yourself  now,  my 
good  fellow  ?  "  asked  Doctor  Grimshawe,  put 
ting  forth  his  hand  to  grasp  that  of  the  stranger, 
and  giving  it  a  good,  warm  shake.  "  None  the 
worse,  I  should  hope  ?  "  l 

"  Not  much  the  worse,"  answered  the  stran 
ger:  "  not  at  all,  it  may  be.  There  is  a  plea- 

67 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

sant  dimness  and  uncertainty  in  my  mode  of 
being.  I  am  taken  off  my  feet,  as  it  were,  and 
float  in  air,  with  a  faint  delight  in  my  sensations. 
The  grossness,  the  roughness,  the  too  great  an 
gularity  of  the  actual,  is  removed  from  me.  It 
is  a  state  that  I  like  well.  It  may  be,  this  is  the 
way  that  the  dead  feel  when  they  awake  in  an 
other  state  of  being,  with  a  dim  pleasure,  after 
passing  through  the  brief  darkness  of  death.  It 
is  very  pleasant." 

He  answered  dreamily,  and  sluggishly,  reluc 
tantly,  as  if  there  were  a  sense  of  repose  in  him 
which  he  disliked  to  break  by  putting  any  of 
his  sensations  into  words.  His  voice  had  a  re 
markable  sweetness  and  gentleness,  though  lack 
ing  in  depth  of  melody. 

"  Here,  take  this,"  said  the  Doctor,  who  had 
been  preparing  some  kind  of  potion  in  a  tea 
spoon  :  it  may  have  been  a  dose  of  his  famous 
preparation  of  spider's  web,  for  aught  I  know, 
the  operation  of  which  was  said  to  be  of  a  sooth 
ing  influence,  causing  a  delightful  silkiness  of 
sensation ;  but  I  know  not  whether  it  was  con 
sidered  good  for  concussions  of  the  brain,  such 
as  it  is  to  be  supposed  the  present  patient  had 
undergone.  "  Take  this  :  it  will  do  you  good ; 
and  here  I  drink  your  very  good  health  in  some 
thing  that  will  do  me  good." 

So   saying,   the  grim   Doctor   quaffed   off  a 
tumbler  of  brandy  and  water. 
68 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

"  How  sweet  a  contrast,"  murmured  the  stran 
ger,  "  between  that  scene  of  violence  and  this 
great  peace  that  has  come  over  me  !  It  is  as 
when  one  can  say,  I  have  fought  the  good 

fight." 

"  You  are  right,"  said  the  Doctor,  with  what 
would  have  been  one  of  his  deep  laughs,  but 
which  he  modified  in  consideration  of  his  pa 
tient's  tenderness  of  brain.  "  We  both  of  us 
fought  a  good  fight ;  for  though  you  struck  no 
actual  stroke,  you  took  them  as  unflinchingly  as 
ever  I  saw  a  man,  and  so  turned  the  fortune  of 
the  battle  better  than  if  you  smote  with  a  sledge 
hammer.  Two  things  puzzle  me  in  the  affair. 
First,  whence  came  my  assailants,  all  in  that 
moment  of  time,  unless  Satan  let  loose  out  of 
the  infernal  regions  a  synod  of  fiends,  hoping 
thus  to  get  a  triumph  over  me.  And  secondly, 
whence  came  you,  my  preserver,  unless  you  are 
an  angel,  and  dropped  down  from  the  sky." 

"  No,"  answered  the  stranger,  with  quiet  sim 
plicity.  "  I  was  passing  through  the  street  to 
my  little  school,  when  I  saw  your  peril,  and 
felt  it  my  duty  to  expostulate  with  the  people." 

"  Well,"  said  the  grim  Doctor,  "  come  whence 
you  will,  you  did  an  angel's  office  for  me,  and  I 
shall  do  what  an  earthly  man  may  to  requite  it. 
There,  we  will  talk  no  more  for  the  present." 

He  hushed  up  the  children,  who  were  al 
ready,  of  their  own  accord,  walking  on  tiptoe 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

and  whispering,  and  he  himself  even  went  so 
far  as  to  refrain  from  the  usual  incense  of  his 
pipe,  having  observed  that  the  stranger,  who 
seemed  to  be  of  a  very  delicate  organization, 
had  seemed  sensible  of  the  disagreeable  effect 
on  the  atmosphere  of  the  room.  The  restraint 
lasted,  however,  only  till  (in  the  course  of  the 
day)  crusty  Hannah  had  fitted  up  a  little  bed 
room  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  entry,  to  which 
she  and  the  grim  Doctor  moved  the  stranger, 
who,  though  tall,  they  observed  was  of  no  great 
weight  and  substance,  —  the  lightest  man,  the 
Doctor  averred,  for  his  size,  that  ever  he  had 
handled. 

Every  possible  care  was  taken  of  him,  and  in 
a  day  or  two  he  was  able  to  walk  into  the  study 
again,  where  he  sat  gazing  at  the  sordidness  and 
unneatness  of  the  apartment,  the  strange  fes 
toons  and  drapery  of  spiders'  webs,  the  gigan 
tic  spider  himself,  and  at  the  grim  Doctor,  so 
shaggy,  grizzly,  and  uncouth,  in  the  midst  of 
these  surroundings,  with  a  perceptible  sense  of 
something  very  strange  in  it  all.  His  mild, 
gentle  regard  dwelt  too  on  the  two  beautiful 
children,  evidently  with  a  sense  of  quiet  wonder 
how  they  should  be  here,  and  altogether  a  sense 
of  their  unfitness  ;  they,  meanwhile,  stood  a  lit 
tle  apart,  looking  at  him,  somewhat  disturbed 
and  awed,  as  children  usually  are,  by  a  sense 
that  the  stranger  was  not  perfectly  well,  that  he 

7° 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

had  been  injured,  and  so  set  apart  from  the  rest 
of  the  world. 

"  Will  you  come  to  me,  little  one  ?  "  said  he, 
holding  out  a  delicate  hand  to  Elsie. 

Elsie  came  to  his  side  without  any  hesitation, 
though  without  any  of  the  rush  that  accompa 
nied  her  advent  to  those  whom  she  affected. 
"  And  you,  my  little  man,"  added  the  stranger 
quietly,  and  looking  to  Ned,  who  likewise  will 
ingly  approached,  and,  shaking  him  by  the  of 
fered  hand,  let  it  go  again,  but  continued  stand 
ing  by  his  side. 

"  Do  you  know,  my  little  friends,"  said  the 
stranger,  "  that  it  is  my  business  in  life  to  in 
struct  such  little  people  as  you  ?  " 

"  Do  they  obey  you  well,  sir  ? "  asked  Ned, 
perhaps  conscious  of  a  want  of  force  in  the  per 
son  whom  he  addressed. 

The  stranger  smiled  faintly.  "  Not  too  well," 
said  he.  "  That  has  been  my  difficulty ;  for  I 
have  moral  and  religious  objections,  and  also  a 
great  horror,  to  the  use  of  the  rod,  and  I  have 
not  been  gifted  with  a  harsh  voice  and  a  stern 
brow  ;  so  that,  after  a  while,  my  little  people 
sometimes  get  the  better  of  me.  The  present 
generation  of  men  is  too  gross  for  gentle  treat 
ment." 

"  You  are  quite  right,"  quoth  Doctor  Grim- 
shawe,  who  had  been  observing  this  little  scene, 
and  trying  to  make  out,  from  the  mutual  de- 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

portment  of  the  stranger  and  the  two  children, 
what  sort  of  man  this  fair,  quiet  stranger  was, 
with  his  gentleness  and  weakness,  —  character 
istics  that  were  not  attractive  to  himself,  yet  in 
which  he  acknowledged,  as  he  saw  them  here, 
a  certain  charm  ;  nor  did  he  know,  scarcely, 
whether  to  despise  the  one  in  whom  he  saw 
them,  or  to  yield  to  a  strange  sense  of  reverence. 
So  he  watched  the  children,  with  an  indistinct 
idea  of  being  guided  by  them.  "  You  are  quite 
right :  the  world  now  —  and  always  before,  as 
far  as  I  ever  heard  —  requires  a  great  deal  of 
brute  force,  a  great  deal  of  animal  food  and 
brandy  in  the  man  that  is  to  make  an  impres 
sion  on  it." 

The  convalescence  of  the  stranger —  he  gave 
his  name  as  Colcord  —  proceeded  favorably  ; 
for  the  Doctor  remarked  that,  delicate  as  his 
system  was,  it  had  a  certain  purity,  —  a  simple 
healthfulness  that  did  not  run  into  disease  as 
stronger  constitutions  might.  It  did  not  appar 
ently  require  much  to  crush  down  such  a  being 
as  this, —  not  much  unkindly  breath  to  blow 
out  the  taper  of  his  life,  —  and  yet,  if  not  abso 
lutely  killed,  there  was  a  certain  aptness  to  keep 
alive  in  him  not  readily  to  be  overcome. 

No  sooner  was  he  in  a  condition  so  to  do, 
than  he  went  forth  to  look  after  the  little  school 
that  he  had  spoken  of,  but  soon  came  back, 
announcing  in  a  very  quiet  and  undisturbed 

72 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

way  that,  during  his  withdrawal  from  duty,  the   \ 
scholars  had  been  distributed  to  other  instruc-    \ 
tors,  and  consequently  he  was  without  place  or 
occupation.2 

"  A  hard  case,"  said  the  Doctor,  flinging  a 
gruff  curse  at  those  who  had  so  readily  deserted 
the  poor  schoolmaster. 

"  Not  so  hard,"  replied  Colcord.  "  These 
little  fellows  are  an  unruly  set,  born  of  parents 
who  have  led  rough  lives,  —  here  in  battle  time, 
too,  with  the  spirit  of  battle  in  them,  —  there 
fore  rude  and  contentious  beyond  my  power  to 
cope  with  them.  I  have  been  taught,  long 
ago,"  he  added,  with  a  peaceful  smile,  "  that 
my  business  in  life  does  not  lie  with  grown-up 
and  consolidated  men  and  women  ;  and  so,  not 
to  be  useless  in  my  day,  and  to  gain  the  little 
that  my  sustenance  requires,  I  have  thought  to 
deal  with  children.  But  even  for  this  I  lack 
force." 

"  I  dare  say,"  said  the  Doctor,  with  a  modi 
fied  laugh.  "  Little  devils  they  are,  harder  to 
deal  with  than  men.  Well,  I  am  glad  of  your 
failure  for  one  reason,  and  of  your  being  thrown 
out  of  business  ;  because  we  shall  have  the  bene 
fit  of  you  the  longer.  Here  is  this  boy  to  be  in 
structed.  I  have  made  some  attempts  myself; 
but  having  no  art  of  instructing,  no  skill,  no 
temper  I  suppose,  I  make  but  an  indifferent 
hand  at  it :  and  besides  I  have  other  business 

73 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

that  occupies  my  thoughts.  Take  him  in  hand> 
if  you  like,  and  the  girl  for  company.  No  mat 
ter  whether  you  teach  her  anything,  unless  you 
happen  to  be  acquainted  with  needlework." 

"  I  will  talk  with  the  children,"  said  Colcord, 
"  and  see  if  I  am  likely  to  do  good  with  them. 
The  lad,  I  see,  has  a  singular  spirit  of  aspiration 
and  pride,  —  no  ungentle  pride,  but  still  hard 
to  cope  with.  1  will  see.  The  little  girl  is  a 
most  comfortable  child." 

"  You  have  read  the  boy  as  if  you  had  his 
heart  in  your  hand,"  said  the  Doctor,  rather 
surprised.  "  I  could  not  have  done  it  better 
myself,  though  I  have  known  him  all  but  from 
the  egg."  ^ 

Accordingly,  the  stranger,  who  had  been  thrust 
so  providentially  into  this  odd  and  insulated  lit 
tle  community,  abode  with  them,  without  more 
words  being  spoken  on  the  subject ;  for  it  seemed 
to  all  concerned  a  natural  arrangement,  although, 
on  both  parts,  they  were  mutually  sensible  of 
something  strange  in  the  companionship  thus 
brought  about.  To  say  the  truth,  it  was  not 
easy  to  imagine  two  persons  apparently  less 
adapted  to  each  other's  society  than  the  rough, 
uncouth,  animal  Doctor,  whose  faith  was  in  his 
own  right  arm,  so  full  of  the  old  Adam  as  he 
was,  so  sturdily  a  hater,  so  hotly  impulsive,  so 
deep,  subtle,  and  crooked,  so  obstructed  by  his 
animal  nature,  so  given  to  his  pipe  and  black 

74 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

bottle,  so  wrathful  and  pugnacious  and  wicked, 
—  and  this  mild,  spiritual  creature,  so  milky, 
with  so  unforceful  a  grasp  ;  and  it  was  singular 
to  see  how  they  stood  apart  and  eyed  each  other, 
each  tacitly  acknowledging  a  certain  merit  and 
kind  of  power,  though  not  well  able  to  appre 
ciate  its  value.  The  grim  Doctor's  kindness, 
however,  and  gratitude,  had  been  so  thoroughly 
awakened,  that  he  did  not  feel  the  disgust  that 
he  probably  otherwise  might  at  what  seemed  the 
mawkishness  of  Colcord's  character  ;  his  want, 
morally  speaking,  of  bone  and  muscle ;  his  fas 
tidiousness  of  character,  the  essence  of  which  it 
seemed  to  be  to  bear  no  stain  upon  it ;  other 
wise  it  must  die. 

On  Colcord's  part  there  was  a  good  deal  of 
evidence  to  be  detected,  by  a  nice  observer,  that 
he  found  it  difficult  to  put  up  with  the  Doctor's 
coarse  peculiarities,  whether  physical  or  moral. 
His  animal  indulgences  of  appetite  struck  him 
with  wonder  and  horror ;  his  coarse  expressions, 
his  free  indulgence  of  wrath,  his  sordid  and  un 
clean  habits  ;  the  dust,  the  cobwebs,  the  monster 
that  dangled  from  the  ceiling ;  his  pipe,  diffus 
ing  its  fragrance  through  the  house,  and  show 
ing,  by  the  plainest  and  simplest  proof,  how  we 
all  breathe  one  another's  breath,  nice  and  proud 
as  we  may  be,  kings  and  daintiest  ladies  breath 
ing  the  air  that  has  already  served  to  inflate  a 
beggar's  lungs.  He  shrank,  too,  from  the  rude 

75 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

manhood  of  the  doctor's  character,  with  its 
human  warmth,  — an  element  which  he  seemed 
not  to  possess  in  his  own  character.  He  was 
capable  only  of  gentle  and  mild  regard, —  that: 
was  his  warmest  affection ;  and  the  warmest, 
too,  that  he  was  capable  of  exciting  in  others. 
So  that  he  was  doomed  as  much  apparently  as 
the  Doctor  himself  to  be  a  lonely  creature,  with 
out  any  very  deep  companionship  in  the  world, 
though  not  incapable,  when  he,  by  some  rare 
chance,  met  a  soul  distantly  akin,  of  holding  a 
certain  high  spiritual  communion.  With  the 
children,  however,  he  succeeded  in  establishing 
some  good  and  available  relations ;  his  simple 
and  passionless  character  coincided  with  their 
simplicity,  and  their  as  yet  unawakened  pas 
sions  :  they  appeared  to  understand  him  better 
than  the  Doctor  ever  succeeded  in  doing.  He 
touched  springs  and  elements  in  the  nature  of 
both  that  had  never  been  touched  till  now,  and 
that  sometimes  made  a  sweet,  high  music.  But 
this  was  rarely  ;  and  as  far  as  the  general  duties 
of  an  instructor  went,  they  did  not  seem  to  be 
very  successfully  performed.  Something  was 
cultivated ;  the  spiritual  germ  grew,  it  might 
be ;  but  the  children,  and  especially  Ned,  were 
intuitively  conscious  of  a  certain  want  of  sub 
stance  in  the  instructor,  —  a  something  of  earthly 
bulk  ;  a  too  etherealness.  But  his  connection 
with  our  story  does  not  lie  in  any  excellence,  or 

76 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

lack  of  excellence,  that  he  showed  as  an  in 
structor,  and  we  merely  mention  these  things 
as  illustrating  more  or  less  his  characteristics. 

The  grim  Doctor's  curiosity  was  somewhat 
piqued  by  what  he  could  see  of  the  schoolmas 
ter's  character,  and  he  was  desirous  of  finding 
out  what  sort  of  a  life  such  a  man  could  have 
]ed  in  a  world  which  he  himself  had  found  so 
rough  a  one  ;  through  what  difficulties  he  had 
reached  middle  age  without  absolutely  vanish 
ing  away  in  his  contact  with  more  positive  sub 
stances  than  himself;  how  the  world  had  given 
him  a  subsistence,  if  indeed  he  recognized  any 
thing  more  dense  than  fragrance,  like  a  certain 
people  whom  Pliny  mentioned  in  Africa, —  a 
point,  in  fact,  which  the  grim  Doctor  denied, 
his  performance  at  table  being  inappreciable, 
and  confined,  at  least  almost  entirely,  to  a  dish 
of  boiled  rice,  which  crusty  Hannah  set  before 
him,  preparing  it,  it  might  be,  with  a  sympathy 
of  her  East  Indian  part  towards  him. 

Well,  Doctor  Grimshawe  easily  got  at  what 
seemed  to  be  all  of  the  facts  of  Colcord's  life;  how 
that  he  was  a  New  Englander,  the  descendant 
of  an  ancient  race  of  settlers,  the  last  of  them  ; 
for,  once  pretty  numerous  in  their  quarter  of  the 
country,  they  seemed  to  have  been  dying  out, 
—  exhaling  from  the  earth,  and  passing  to  some 
other  region. 

"  No  wonder,"  said  the  Doctor  bluffly.  "  You 

77 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

have  been  letting  slip  the  vital  principle,  if  you 
are  a  fair  specimen  of  the  race.  You  do  not 
clothe  yourself  in  substance.  Your  souls  are 
not  coated  sufficiently.  Beef  and  brandy  would 
have  saved  you.  You  have  exhaled  for  lack  of 
them/' 

The  schoolmaster  shook  his  head,  and  prob 
ably  thought  his  earthly  salvation  and  suste 
nance  not  worth  buying  at  such  a  cost.  The 
remainder  of  his  history  was  not  tangible  enough 
to  afford  a  narrative.  There  seemed,  from  what 
he  said,  to  have  always  been  a  certain  kind  of 
refinement  in  his  race,  a  nicety  of  conscience, 
a  nicety  of  habit,  which  either  was  in  itself  a 
want  of  force,  or  was  necessarily  connected  with 
it,  and  which,  the  Doctor  silently  thought,  had 
culminated  in  the  person  before  him. 

"  It  was  always  in  us,"  continued  Colcord, 
with  a  certain  pride  which  people  generally  feel 
in  their  ancestral  characteristics,  be  they  good  or 
evil.  "  We  had  a  tradition  among  us  of  our  first 
emigrant,  and  the  causes  that  brought  him  to  the 
New  World ;  and  it  was  said  that  he  had  suf 
fered  so  much,  before  quitting  his  native  shores, 
so  painful  had  been  his  track,  that  always  after 
wards  on  the  forest  leaves  of  this  land  his  foot 
left  a  print  of  blood  wherever  he  trod." 


CHAPTER  VII 

A  PRINT  of  blood  !  "  said  the  grim  Doc 
tor,  breaking    his    pipestem    by  some 
sudden  spasm  in  his  gripe  of  it.  "  Pooh  ! 
the  devil  take  the  pipe  !     A  very  strange  story 
that !     Pray  how  was  it  ?  "  l 

"  Nay,  it  is  but  a  very  dim  legend/'  answered 
the  schoolmaster :  "  although  there  are  old  yel 
low  papers  and  parchments,  I  remember,  in  my 
father's  possession,  that  had  some  reference  to 
this  man,  too,  though  there  was  nothing  in  them 
about  the  bloody  footprints.  But  our  family 
legend  is,  that  this  man  was  of  a  good  race,  in 
the  time  of  Charles  the  First,  originally  Papists, 
but  one  of  them  —  the  second  son,  our  legend 
sayS  —  Was  of  a  milder,  sweeter  cast  than  the 
rest,  who  were  fierce  and  bloody  men,  of  a  hard, 
strong  nature ;  but  he  partook  most  of  his 
mother's  character.  This  son  had  been  one  of 
the  earliest  Quakers,  converted  by  George  Fox  ; 
and  moreover  there  had  been  love  between  him 
and  a  young  lady  of  great  beauty  and  an  heiress, 
whom  likewise  the  eldest  son  of  the  house  had 
designed  to  make  his  wife.  And  these  brothers, 
cruel  men,  caught  their  innocent  brother  and 

7Q 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

kept  him  in  confinement  long  in  his  own  native 
home  "  — 

"  How  ?  "  asked  the  Doctor.  "  Why  did  not 
he  appeal  to  the  laws  ? " 

"  Our  legend  says,"  replied  the  schoolmaster, 
"only  that  he  was  kept  in  a  chamber  that  was 
forgotten/' 2 

"  Very  strange  that ! "  quoth  the  Doctor. 
"  He  was  sold  by  his  brethren." 

The  schoolmaster  went  on  to  tell,  with  much 
shuddering,  how  a  Jesuit  priest  had  been  mixed 
up  with  this  wretched  business,  and  there  had 
been  a  scheme  at  once  religious  and  political  to 
wrest  the  estate  and  the  lovely  lady  from  the 
fortunate  heir;  and  how  this  grim  Italian  priest 
had  instigated  them  to  use  a  certain  kind  of 
torture  with  the  poor  heir,  and  how  he  had  suf 
fered  from  this ;  but  one  night,  when  they  left  him 
senseless,  he  contrived  to  make  his  escape  from 
that  cruel  home,  bleeding  as  he  went ;  and  how, 
by  some  action  of  his  imagination, —  his  sense 
of  the  cruelty  and  hideousness  of  such  treatment 
at  his  brethren's  hands,  and  in  the  holy  name  of 
his  religion,  —  his  foot,  which  had  been  crushed 
by  their  cruelty,  bled  as  he  went,  and  that  blood 
had  never  been  stanched.  And  thus  he  had 
come  to  America,  and,  after  many  wanderings, 
and  much  track  of  blood  along  rough  ways,  to 
New  England.3 

80 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

"And  what  became  of  his  beloved?"  asked 
the  grim  Doctor,  who  was  puffing  away  at  a  fresh 
pipe  with  a  very  queer  aspect. 

"  She  died  in  England,"  replied  the  school 
master.  "  And  before  her  death,  by  some  means 
or  other,  they  say  that  she  found  means  to  send 
him  a  child,  the  offspring  of  their  marriage,  and 
from  that  child  our  race  descended.  And  they 
say,  too,  that  she  sent  him  a  key  to  a  coffin,  in 
which  was  locked  up  a  great  treasure.  But  we 
have  not  the  key.  But  he  never  went  back  to 
his  own  country ;  and  being  heart-broken,  and 
sick  and  weary  of  the  world  and  its  pomps  and 
vanities,  he  died  here,  after  suffering  much  per 
secution  likewise  from  the  Puritans.  For  his 
peaceful  religion  was  accepted  nowhere." 

"  Of  all  legends,  —  all  foolish  legends,"  — 
quoth  the  Doctor  wrathfully,  with  a  face  of  a 
dark  blood-red  color,  so  much  was  his  anger  and 
contempt  excited,  "  and  of  all  absurd  heroes  of 
a  legend,  I  never  heard  the  like  of  this  !  Have 
you  the  key? " 

"  No  :  nor  have  I  ever  heard  of  it,"  answered 
the  schoolmaster. 

"  But  you  have  some  papers  ?  " 

"  They  existed  once  :  perhaps  are  still  re 
coverable  by  search,"  said  the  schoolmaster. 
"  My  father  knew  of  them." 

"  A  foolish  legend,"  reiterated  the  Doctor. 
81 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

"It  is  strange  how  human  folly  strings  itself  on 
to  human  folly,  as  a  story  originally  false  and 
foolish  grows  older/' 

He  got  up  and  walked  about  the  room,  with 
hasty  and  irregular  strides  and  a  prodigious 
swinging  of  his  ragged  dressing  gown,  which 
swept  away  as  many  cobwebs  as  it  would  take  a 
week  to  reproduce.  After  a  few  turns,  as  if  to 
change  the  subject,  the  Doctor  asked  the  school 
master  if  he  had  any  taste  for  pictures,  and  drew 
his  attention  to  the  portrait  which  has  been  al 
ready  mentioned,  —  the  figure  in  antique  sordid 
garb,  with  a  halter  round  his  neck,  and  the  ex 
pression  in  his  face  which  the  Doctor  and  the 
two  children  had  interpreted  so  differently.  Col- 
cord,  who  probably  knew  nothing  about  pictures, 
looked  at  it  at  first  merely  from  the  gentle  and 
cool  complaisance  of  his  character  ;  but  becom 
ing  absorbed  in  the  contemplation,  stood  long 
without  speaking ;  until  the  Doctor,  looking  in 
his  face,  perceived  his  eyes  were  streaming  with 
tears. 

"  What  are  you  crying  about  ?  "  said  he 
gruffly. 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  the  schoolmaster  qui 
etly.  "  But  there  is  something  in  this  picture 
that  affects  me  inexpressibly ;  so  that,  not  be 
ing  a  man  passionate  by  nature,  I  have  hardly 
ever  been  so  moved  as  now  !  " 

"  Very  foolish,"  muttered  the  Doctor,  re- 
82 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

suming  his  strides  about  the  room.  "  I  am 
ashamed  of  a  grown  man  that  can  cry  at  a  pic 
ture,  and  can't  tell  the  reason  why." 

After  a  few  more  turns  he  resumed  his  easy- 
chair  and  his  tumbler,  and,  looking  upward, 
beckoned  to  his  pet  spider,  which  came  dan 
gling  downward,  great  parti-colored  monster 
that  he  was,  and  swung  about  his  master's  head 
in  hideous  conference  as  it  seemed  ;  a  sight  that 
so  distressed  the  schoolmaster,  or  shocked  his 
delicate  taste,  that  he  went  out,  and  called  the 
two  children  to  take  a  walk  with  him,  with  the 
purpose  of  breathing  air  that  was  neither  in 
fected  with  spiders  nor  graves. 

After  his  departure,  Doctor  Grimshawe 
seemed  even  more  disturbed  than  during  his 
presence :  again  he  strode  about  the  study  ; 
then  sat  down  with  his  hands  on  his  knees, 
looking  straight  into  the  fire,  as  if  it  imaged 
the  seething  element  of  his  inner  man,  where 
burned  hot  projects,  smoke,  heat,  blackness, 
ashes,  a  smouldering  of  old  thoughts,  a  blazing 
up  of  new;  casting  in  the  gold  of  his  mind,  as 
Aaron  did  that  of  the  Israelites,  and  waiting  to 
see  what  sort  of  a  thing  would  come  out  of  the 
furnace.  The  children  coming  in  from  their 
play,  he  spoke  harshly  to  them,  and  eyed  little 
Ned  with  a  sort  of  savageness,  as  if  he  meant  to 
eat  him  up,  or  do  some  other  dreadful  deed  : 
and  when  little  Elsie  came  with  her  usual  frank- 

83 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

ness  to  his  knee,  he  repelled  her  in  such  a  way 
that  she  shook  her  little  hand  at  him,  saying, 
"  Naughty  Doctor  Grim,  what  has  come  to 
you?" 

Through  all  that  day,  by  some  subtle  means 
or  other,  the  whole  household  knew  that  some 
thing  was  amiss ;  and  nobody  in  it  was  com 
fortable.  It  was  like  a  spell  of  weather  ;  like 
the  east  wind  ;  like  an  epidemic  in  the  air,  that 
would  not  let  anything  be  comfortable  or  con 
tented,  —  this  pervading  temper  of  the  Doctor. 
Crusty  Hannah  knew  it  in  the  kitchen ;  even 
those  who  passed  the  house  must  have  known 
it  somehow  or  other,  and  have  felt  a  chill,  an 
irritation,  an  influence  on  the  nerves,  as  they 
passed.  The  spiders  knew  it,  and  acted  as  they 
were  wont  to  do  in  stormy  weather.  The 
schoolmaster,  when  he  returned  from  his  walk, 
seemed  likewise  to  know  it,  and  made  himself 
secure  and  secret,  keeping  in  his  own  room,  ex 
cept  at  dinner,  when  he  ate  his  rice  in  silence, 
without  looking  towards  the  Doctor,  and  ap 
peared  before  him  no  more  till  evening,  when 
the  grim  Doctor  summoned  him  into  the  study, 
after  sending  the  two  children  to  bed. 

"  Sir/'  began  the  Doctor,  "  you  have  spoken 
of  some  old  documents  in  your  possession  re 
lating  to  the  English  descent  of  your  ancestors. 
I  have  a  curiosity  to  see  these  documents. 
Where  are  they  ?  " 4 

84 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

"  I  have  them  about  my  person,"  said  the 
schoolmaster  ;  and  he  produced  from  his  pocket 
a  bundle  of  old  yellow  papers  done  up  in  a 
parchment  cover,  tied  with  a  piece  of  white 
cord,  and  presented  them  to  Doctor  Grimshawe, 
who  looked  over  them  with  interest.  They 
seemed  to  consist  of  letters,  genealogical  lists, 
certified  copies  of  entries  in  registers,  things 
which  must  have  been  made  out  by  somebody 
who  knew  more  of  business  than  this  ethereal 
person  in  whose  possession  they  now  were. 
The  Doctor  looked  at  them  with  considerable 
attention,  and  at  last  did  them  hastily  up  in 
the  bundle  again,  and  returned  them  to  the 
owner. 

"  Have  you  any  idea  what  is  now  the  condi 
tion  of  the  family  to  whom  these  papers  refer  ?  " 
asked  he. 

"  None  whatever, —  none  for  almost  a  hun 
dred  years,"  said  the  schoolmaster.  "  About 
that  time  ago,  I  have  heard  a  vague  story  that 
one  of  my  ancestors  went  to  the  old  country 
and  saw  the  place.  But,  you  see,  the  change 
of  name  has  effectually  covered  us  from  view  ; 
and  I  feel  that  our  true  name  is  that  which 
my  ancestor  assumed  when  he  was  driven  forth 
from  the  home  of  his  fathers,  and  that  I  have 
nothing  to  do  with  any  other.  I  have  no  views 
on  the  estate,  —  none  whatever.  I  am  not  so 
foolish  and  dreamy." 

85 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

"  Very  right/'  said  the  Doctor.  "  Nothing 
is  more  foolish  than  to  follow  up  such  a  pur 
suit  as  this,  against  all  the  vested  interests  of 
two  hundred  years,  which  of  themselves  have 
built  up  an  impenetrably  strong  allegation 
against  you.  They  harden  into  stone,  in  Eng 
land,  these  years,  and  become  indestructible, 
instead  of  melting  away  as  they  do  in  this  happy 
country." 

"It  is  not  a  matter  of  interest  with  me," 
replied  the  schoolmaster. 

"  Very  right,  —  very  right !  "  repeated  the 
grim  Doctor. 

But  something  was  evidently  amiss  with  him 
this  evening.  It  was  impossible  to  feel  easy 
and  comfortable  in  contact  with  him  :  if  you 
looked  in  his  face,  there  was  the  red,  lurid  glare 
of  his  eyes  ;  meeting  you  fiercely  and  craftily  as 
ever  :  sometimes  he  bit  his  lip  and  frowned  in 
an  awful  manner.  Once,  he  burst  out  into  an 
awful  fit  of  swearing,  for  no  good  reason,  or 
any  reason  whatever  that  he  explained,  or  that 
anybody  could  tell.  Again,  for  no  more  suit 
able  reason,  he  uplifted  his  stalwart  arm,  and 
smote  a  heavy  blow  with  his  fist  upon  the  oak 
table,  making  the  tumbler  and  black  bottle  leap 
up,  and  damaging,  one  would  think,  his  own 
knuckles.  Then  he  rose  up,  and  resumed  his 
strides  about  the  room.  He  paused  before  the 
portrait  before  mentioned  ;  then  resumed  his 

86 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

heavy,  quick,  irregular  tread,  swearing  under 
his  breath  ;  and  you  would  imagine,  from  what 
you  heard,  that  all  his  thoughts  and  the  move 
ment  of  his  mind  were  a  blasphemy.  Then 
again  —  but  this  was  only  once  —  he  heaved  a 
deep,  ponderous  sigh,  that  seemed  to  come  up 
in  spite  of  him,  out  of  his  depths,  an  exhalation 
of  deep  suffering,  as  if  some  convulsion  had 
given  it  a  passage  to  upper  air,  instead  of  its 
being  hidden,  as  it  generally  was,  by  accumu 
lated  rubbish  of  later  time  heaped  above  it. 

This  latter  sound  appealed  to  something 
within  the  simple  schoolmaster,  who  had  been 
witnessing  the  demeanor  of  the  Doctor,  like  a 
being  looking  from  another  sphere  into  the 
trouble  of  the  mortal  one  ;  a  being  incapable 
of  passion,  observing  the  mute,  hard  struggle  of 
one  in  its  grasp. 

"  Friend,"  said  he  at  length,  "  thou  hast 
something  on  thy  mind." 

"  Aye,"  said  the  grim  Doctor,  coming  to  a 
stand  before  his  chair.  "  You  see  that  ?  Can 
you  see  as  well  what  it  is  ? " 

"  Some  stir  and  writhe  of  something  in  the 
past  that  troubles  you,  as  if  you  had  kept  a 
snake  for  many  years  in  your  bosom,  and  stu 
pefied  it  with  brandy,  and  now  it  awakes  again, 
and  troubles  you  with  bites  and  stings." 

"  What  sort  of  a  man  do  you  think  me  ?  " 
asked  the  Doctor. 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

"  I  cannot  tell,"  said  the  schoolmaster.  "The 
sympathies  of  my  nature  are  not  those  that 
should  give  me  knowledge  of  such  men." 

"Am  I,  think  you,"  continued  the  grim 
Doctor,  "  a  man  capable  of  great  crime  ?  " 

"A  great  one,  if  any,"  said  Colcord ;  "a 
great  good,  likewise,  it  might  be." 

"  What  would  I  be  likely  to  do,"  asked  Doc 
tor  Grim,  "supposing  I  had  a  darling  purpose, 
to  the  accomplishment  of  which  I  had  given  my 
soul,  —  yes,  my  soul,  —  my  success  in  life,  my 
days  and  nights  of  thought,  my  years  of  time, 
dwelling  upon  it,  pledging  myself  to  it,  until  at 
last  I  had  grown  to  love  the  burden  of  it,  and 
not  to  regret  my  own  degradation  ?  I,  a  man 
of  strongest  will.  What  would  I  do,  if  this  were 
to  be  resisted  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  conceive  of  the  force  of  will  shap 
ing  out  my  ways,"  said  the  schoolmaster.  "  I 
walk  gently  along  and  take  the  path  that  opens 
before  me." 

"  Ha  !  ha  !  ha  !  "  shouted  the  grim  Doctor, 
with  one  of  his  portentous  laughs.  "  So  do  we 
all,  in  spite  of  ourselves  ;  and  sometimes  the 
path  comes  to  a  sudden  ending  !  "  And  he  re 
sumed  his  drinking. 

The  schoolmaster  looked  at  him  with  won 
der,  and  a  kind  of  shuddering,  at  something  so 
unlike  himself;  but  probably  he  very  imper 
fectly  estimated  the  forces  that  were  at  work 

88 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

within  this  strange  being,  and  how  dangerous 
they  made  him.  He  imputed  it,  a  great  deal, 
to  the  brandy,  which  he  had  kept  drinking  in 
such  inordinate  quantities ;  whereas  it  is  prob 
able  that  this  had  a  soothing,  emollient  effect, 
as  far  as  it  went,  on  the  Doctor's  emotions  ;  a 
sort  of  like  to  like,  that  he  instinctively  felt  to 
be  a  remedy.  But  in  truth  it  was  difficult  to 
see  these  two  human  creatures  together,  with 
out  feeling  their  incompatibility  ;  without  hav 
ing  a  sense  that  one  must  be  hostile  to  the 
other.  The  schoolmaster,  through  his  fine  in 
stincts,  doubtless  had  a  sense  of  this,  and  sat 
gazing  at  the  lurid,  wrathful  figure  of  the  Doc 
tor,  in  a  sort  of  trance  and  fascination  :  not  able 
to  stir  ;  bewildered  by  the  sight  of  the  great 
spider  and  other  surroundings  ;  and  this  strange, 
uncouth  fiend,  who  had  always  been  abhorrent 
to  him,  —  he  had  a  kind  of  curiosity  in  it, 
waited  to  see  what  would  come  of  it,  but  felt  it 
to  be  an  unnatural  state  to  him.  And  again  the 
grim  Doctor  came  and  stood  before  him,  pre 
pared  to  make  another  of  those  strange  utter 
ances  with  which  he  had  already  so  perplexed 
him. 

That  night  —  that  midnight  —  it  was  ru 
mored  through  the  town  that  one  of  the  inhab 
itants,  going  home  late  along  the  street  that  led 
by  the  graveyard,  saw  the  grim  Doctor  standing 
by  the  open  window  of  the  study  behind  the 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

elm-tree,  in  his  old  dressing  gown,  chill  as  was 
the  night,  and  flinging  his  arms  abroad  wildly 
into  the  darkness,  and  muttering  like  the  growl 
ing  of  a  tempest,  with  occasional  vociferations 
that  grew  even  shrill  with  passion.  The  lis 
tener,  though  affrighted,  could  not  resist  an  im 
pulse  to  pause,  and  attempt  overhearing  some 
thing  that  might  let  him  into  the  secret  counsels 
of  this  strange  wild  man,  whom  the  town  held 
in  such  awe  and  antipathy ;  to  learn,  perhaps, 
what  was  the  great  spider,  and  whether  he  were 
summoning  the  dead  out  of  their  graves.  How 
ever,  he  could  make  nothing  out  of  what  he 
overheard,  except  it  were  fragmentary  curses,  of 
a  dreadful  character,  which  the  Doctor  brought 
up  with  might  and  main  out  of  the  depths  of  his 
soul  and  flung  them  forth,  burning  hot,  aimed 
at  what,  and  why,  and  to  what  practical  end,  it 
was  impossible  to  say ;  but  as  necessarily  as  a 
volcano,  in  a  state  of  eruption,  sends  forth  boil 
ing  lava,  sparkling  and  scintillating  stones,  and 
a  sulphurous  atmosphere,  indicative  of  its  in 
ward  state.5 

Dreading  lest  some  one  of  these  ponderous 
anathemas  should  alight,  reason  or  none,  on  his 
own  head,  the  man  crept  away,  and  whispered 
the  thing  to  his  cronies,  from  whom  it  was  com 
municated  to  the  townspeople  at  large,  and  so 
became  one  of  many  stories  circulating  with 

90 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

reference  to  our  grim  hero,  which,  if  not  true  to 
the  fact,  had  undoubtedly  a  degree  of  apposite- 
ness  to  his  character,  of  which  they  were  the 
legitimate  flowers  and  symbols.  If  the  anathe 
mas  took  no  other  effect,  they  seemed  to  have 
produced  a  very  remarkable  one  on  the  unfor 
tunate  elm-tree,  through  the  naked  branches  of 
which  the  Doctor  discharged  this  fiendish  shot. 
For,  the  next  spring,  when  April  came,  no  ten 
der  leaves  budded  forth,  no  life  awakened  there  ; 
and  never  again,  on  that  old  elm,  widely  as  its 
roots  were  imbedded  among  the  dead  of  many 
years,  was  there  rustling  bough  in  the  summer 
time,  or  the  elm's  early  golden  boughs  in  Sep 
tember  ;  and  after  waiting  till  another  spring 
to  give  it  a  fair  chance  of  reviving,  it  was  cut 
down  and  made  into  coffins,  and  burnt  on  the 
sexton's  hearth.  The  general  opinion  was  that 
the  grim  Doctor's  awful  profanity  had  blasted 
that  tree,  fostered,  as  it  had  been,  on  grave- 
mould  of  Puritans.  In  Lancashire  they  tell  of 
a  similar  anathema.  It  had  a  very  frightful 
effect,  it  must  be  owned,  this  idea  of  a  man 
cherishing  emotions  in  his  breast  of  so  horrible 
a  nature  that  he  could  neither  tell  them  to  any 
human  being,  nor  keep  them  in  their  plenitude 
and  intensity  within  the  breast  where  they  had 
their  germ,  and  so  was  forced  to  fling  them 
forth  upon  the  night,  to  pollute  and  put  fear 

91 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

into  the  atmosphere,  and  that  people  should 
breathe  in  somewhat  of  horror  from  an  un 
known  source,  and  be  affected  with  nightmare, 
and  dreams  in  which  they  were  startled  at  their 
own  wickedness. 


92 


CHAPTER  VIII 

A  the  breakfast  table  the  next  morning, 
however,  appeared  Doctor  Grimshawe, 
wearing  very  much  the  same  aspect  of 
an  uncombed,  unshorn,  unbrushed,  odd  sort  of 
a  pagan  as  at  other  times,  and  making  no  differ 
ence  in  his  breakfast,  except  that  he  poured  a 
pretty  large  dose  of  brandy  into  his  cup  of  tea ; 
a  thing,  however,  by  no  means  unexampled  or 
very  unusual  in  his  history.  There  were  also 
the  two  children,  fresher  than  the  morning  it 
self,  rosy  creatures,  with  newly  scrubbed  cheeks, 
made  over  again  for  the  new  day,  though  the 
old  one  had  left  no  dust  upon  them  ; 1  laughing 
with  one  another,  flinging  their  little  jokes  about 
the  table,  and  expecting  that  the  Doctor  might, 
as  was  often  his  wont,  set  some  ponderous  old 
English  joke  trundling  round  among  the  break 
fast  cups  ;  eating  the  corn  cakes  which  crusty 
Hannah,  with  the  aboriginal  part  of  her,  had  a 
knack  of  making  in  a  peculiar  and  exquisite 
fashion.  But  there  was  an  empty  chair  at  table; 
one  cup,  one  little  jug  of  milk,  and  another  of 
pure  water,  with  no  guest  to  partake  of  them. 

"Where  is   the   schoolmaster?"   said   Ned, 
pausing  as  he  was  going  to  take  his  seat. 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

"  Yes,  Doctor  Grim  ?  "  said  little  Elsie. 

"  He  has  overslept  himself  for  once,"  quoth 
Doctor  Grim  gruffly  ;  "  a  strange  thing,  too, 
for  a  man  whose  victuals  and  drink  are  so  light 
as  the  schoolmaster's.  The  fiend  take  me  if  I 
thought  he  had  mortal  mould  enough  in  him 
ever  to  go  to  sleep  at  all  ;  though  he  is  but  a 
kind  of  dream-stuff  in  his  widest-awake  state. 
Hannah,  you  bronze  jade,  call  the  schoolmas 
ter  to  come  to  breakfast." 

Hannah  departed  on  her  errand,  and  was 
heard  knocking  at  the  door  of  the  schoolmas 
ter's  chamber  several  times,  till  the  Doctor 
shouted  to  her  wrathfully  to  cease  her  clatter 
and  open  the  door  at  once,  which  she  appeared 
to  do,  and  speedily  came  back. 

"  He  no  there,  massa.  Schoolmaster  melted 
away  !  " 

"  Vanished  like  a  bubble  !  "  quoth  the  Doc 
tor. 

"  The  great  spider  caught  him  like  a  fly," 
quoth  crusty  Hannah,  chuckling  with  a  sense 
of  mischief  that  seemed  very  pleasant  to  her 
strange  combination. 

"  He  has  taken  a  morning  walk,"  said  little 
Ned  ;  "  don't  you  think  so,  Doctor  Grim  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  the  grim  Doctor.  "  Go  on  with 
your  breakfast,  little  monkey;  the  walk  may  be 
a  long  one,  or  he  is  so  slight  a  weight  that  the 
wind  may  blow  him  overboard." 

Q4 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

A  very  long  walk  it  proved  ;  or  it  might  be 
that  some  wind,  whether  evil  or  good,  had  blown 
him,  as  the  Doctor  suggested,  into  parts  un 
known  ;  for,  from  that  time  forth,  the  Yankee 
schoolmaster  returned  no  more.  It  was  a  sin 
gular  disappearance.  The  bed  did  not  appear 
to  have  been  slept  in  ;  there  was  a  bundle,  in 
a  clean  handkerchief,  containing  two  shirts,  two 
pocket  handkerchiefs,  two  pairs  of  cotton  socks, 
a  Testament,  and  that  was  all.  Had  he  in 
tended  to  go  away,  why  did  he  not  take  this 
little  luggage  in  his  hand,  being  all  he  had,  and 
of  a  kind  not  easily  dispensed  with  ?  The 
Doctor  made  small  question  about  it,  how 
ever  ;  he  had  seemed  surprised,  at  first,  yet 
gave  certainly  no  energetic  token  of  it;  and 
when  Ned,  who  began  to  have  notions  of  things, 
proposed  to  advertise  him  in  the  newspapers, 
or  send  the  town  crier  round,  the  Doctor  ridi 
culed  the  idea  unmercifully. 

"  Lost,  a  lank  Yankee  schoolmaster,"  quoth 
he,  uplifting  his  voice  after  the  manner  of  the 
town  crier ;  "  supposed  to  have  been  blown  out 
of  Doctor  Grim's  window,  or  perhaps  have  rid 
den  off  astride  of  a  humblebee." 

"It  is  not  pretty  to  laugh  in  that  way,  Doc 
tor  Grim,"  said  little  Elsie,  looking  into  his  face, 
with  a  grave  shake  of  her  head. 

"  And  why  not,  you  saucy  little  witch  ? "  said 
the  Doctor. 

95 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

"It  is  not  the  way  to  laugh,  Doctor  Grim," 

persisted  the  child,  but  either  could  not  or  would 
not  assign  any  reason  for  her  disapprobation, 
although  what  she  said  appeared  to  produce  a 
noticeable  effect  on  Doctor  Grimshawe,  who 
lapsed  into  a  rough,  harsh  manner,  that  seemed 
to  satisfy  Elsie  better.  Crusty  Hannah,  mean 
while,  seemed  to  dance  about  the  house  with  a 
certain  singular  alacrity,  a  wonderful  friskiness, 
indeed,  as  if  the  diabolical  result  of  the  mixture 
in  her  nature  was  particularly  pleased  with  some 
thing;  so  she  went,  with  queer  gesticulations, 
crossings,  contortions,  friskings,  evidently  in  a 
very  mirthful  state  ;  until,  being  asked  by  her 
master  what  was  the  matter,  she  replied,  "  Massa, 
me  know  what  became  of  the  schoolmaster. 
Great  spider  catch  in  his  web  and  eat  him  !  " 

Whether  that  was  the  mode  of  his  disappear 
ance,  or  some  other,  certainly  the  schoolmaster 
was  gone  ;  and  the  children  were  left  in  great 
bewilderment  at  the  sudden  vacancy  in  his  place. 
They  had  not  contracted  a  very  yearning  affec 
tion  for  him,  and  yet  his  impression  had  been 
individual  and  real,  and  they  felt  that  something 
was  gone  out  of  their  lives,  now  that  he  was  no 
longer  there.  Something  strange  in  their  cir 
cumstances  made  itself  felt  by  them  ;  they  were 
more  sensible  of  the  grim  Doctor's  uncoutnness, 
his  strange,  reprehensible  habits,  his  dark,  mys 
terious  life,  —  in  looking  at  these  things,  and 

96 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

the  spiders,  and  the  graveyard,  and  their  insu 
lation  from  the  world,  through  the  crystal  me 
dium  of  this  stranger's  character.  In  remember 
ing  him  in  connection  with  these  things,  a  certain 
seemly  beauty  in  him  showed  strikingly  the 
unfitness,  the  sombre  and  tarnished  color,  the 
outreness,  of  the  rest  of  their  lot.  Little  Elsie 
perhaps  felt  the  loss  of  him  more  than  her  play 
mate,  although  both  had  been  interested  by  him. 
But  now  things  returned  pretty  much  to  their 
old  fashion  ;  although,  as  is  inevitably  the  case, 
whenever  persons  or  things  have  been  taken 
suddenly  or  unaccountably  out  of  our  sphere, 
without  telling  us  whither  and  why  they  have 
disappeared,  the  children  could  not,  for  a  long 
while,  bring  themselves  to  feel  that  he  had  really 
gone.  Perhaps,  in  imitation  of  the  custom  in 
that  old  English  house,  of  which  the  Doctor  had 
told  them,  little  Elsie  insisted  that  his  place 
should  still  be  kept  at  the  table  ;  and  so,  when 
ever  crusty  Hannah  neglected  to  do  so,  she 
herself  would  fetch  a  plate,  and  a  little  pitcher 
of  water,  and  set  it  beside  a  vacant  chair ;  and 
sometimes,  so  like  a  shadow  had  he  been,  this 
pale,  slender  creature,  it  almost  might  have  been 
thought  that  he  was  sitting  with  them.  But 
crusty  Hannah  shook  her  head,  and  grinned. 
"  The  spider  know  where  he  is.  We  never  see 
him  more  !  " 

His  abode  in  the  house  had  been  of  only  two 
97 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

or  three  weeks ;  and  in  the  natural  course  of 
things,  had  he  come  and  gone  in  an  ordinary 
way,  his  recollection  would  have  grown  dim  and 
faded  out  in  two  or  three  weeks  more  ;  but  the 
speculations,  the  expectations,  the  watchings  for 
his  reappearance,  served  to  cut  and  grave  the 
recollection  of  him  into  the  children's  hearts,  so 
that  it  remained  a  lifelong  thing  with  them, — 
a  sense  that  he  was  something  that  had  been 
lost  out  of  their  life  too  soon,  and  that  was 
bound,  sooner  or  later,  to  reappear,  and  finish 
what  business  he  had  with  them.  Sometimes 
they  prattled  around  the  Doctor's  chair  about 
him,  and  they  could  perceive  sometimes  that  he 
appeared  to  be  listening,  and  would  chime  in 
with  some  remark  ;  but  he  never  expressed 
either  wonder  or  regret ;  only  telling  Ned,  once, 
that  he  had  no  reason  to  be  sorry  for  his  disap 
pearance. 

"  Why,  Doctor  Grim  ?  "   asked  the  boy. 

The  Doctor  mused,  and  smoked  his  pipe,  as 
if  he  himself  were  thinking  why,  and  at  last  he 
answered,  "He  was  a  dangerous  fellow,  my  old 
boy." 

"  Why  ?  "  said  Ned  again. 

"  He  would  have  taken  the  beef  out  of  you," 
said  the  Doctor. 

I  know  not  how  long  it  was  before  any  other 
visitor  (except  such  as  brought  their  shattered 
constitutions  there  in  hopes  that  the  Doctor 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

would  make  the  worn-out  machinery  as  good  as 
new)  came  to  the  lonely  little  household  on  the 
corner  of  the  graveyard.  The  intercourse  be 
tween  themselves  and  the  rest  of  the  town  re 
mained  as  scanty  as  ever.  Still,  the  grim,  shaggy 
Doctor  was  seen  setting  doggedly  forth,  in  all 
seasons  and  all  weathers,  at  a  certain  hour  of 
the  day,  with  the  two  children,  going  for  long 
walks  on  the  seashore,  or  into  the  country,  miles 
away,  and  coming  back,  hours  afterwards,  with 
plants  and  herbs  that  had  perhaps  virtue  in 
them,  or  flowers  that  had  certainly  beauty ;  even, 
in  their  season,  the  fragrant  magnolias,  leaving 
a  trail  of  fragrance  after  them,  that  grow  only  in 
spots,  the  seeds  having  been  apparently  dropped 
by  some  happy  accident  when  those  proper  to 
the  climate  were  distributed.  Shells  there  were, 
also,  in  the  baskets  that  they  carried,  minerals, 
rare  things,  that  a  magic  touch  seemed  to  have 
created  out  of  the  rude  and  common  things  that 
others  find  in  a  homely  and  ordinary  region. 
The  boy  was  growing  tall,  and  had  got  out  of 
the  merely  infantile  age ;  agile  he  was,  bright, 
but  still  with  a  remarkable  thoughtfulness,  or 
gravity,  or  I  know  not  what  to  call  it ;  but  it 
was  a  shadow,  no  doubt,  falling  upon  him  from 
something  sombre  in  his  warp  of  life,  which  the 
impressibility  of  his  age  and  nature  so  far  ac 
knowledged  as  to  be  a  little  pale  and  grave, 
without  positive  unhappiness  ;  and  when  a  play- 

99 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

ful  moment  came,  as  they  often  did  to  these  two 
healthy  children,  it  seemed  all  a  mistake  that 
you  had  ever  thought  either  of  them  too  grave 
for  their  age.  But  little  Elsie  was  still  the  mer 
rier.  They  were  still  children,  although  they 
quarrelled  seldomer  than  of  yore,  and  kissed  sel- 
domer,  and  had  ceased  altogether  to  complain 
of  one  another  to  the  Doctor  ;  perhaps  the  time 
when  Nature  saw  these  bickerings  to  be  neces 
sary  to  the  growth  of  some  of  their  faculties  was 
nearly  gone.  When  they  did  have  a  quarrel,  the 
boy  stood  upon  his  dignity,  and  visited  Elsie 
with  a  whole  day,  sometimes,  of  silent  and  stately 
displeasure,  which  she  was  accustomed  to  bear, 
sometimes  with  an  assumption  of  cold  indiffer 
ence,  sometimes  with  liveliness,  mirth  in  double 
quantity,  laughter  almost  as  good  as  real,  —  little 
arts  which  showed  themselves  in  her  as  natu 
rally  as  the  gift  of  tears  and  smiles.  In  fact,  hav 
ing  no  advantage  of  female  intercourse,  she  could 
not  well  have  learnt  them  unless  from  crusty 
Hannah,  who  was  such  an  anomaly  of  a  crea 
ture,  with  all  her  mixture  of  races,  that  she 
struck  you  as  having  lost  all  sex  as  one  result 
of  it.  Yet  this  little  girl  was  truly  feminine, 
and  had  all  the  manners  and  preeminently  un- 
criticisable  tenets  proper  to  women  at  her  early 
age. 

She  had  made   respectable   advancement  in 
study ;  that  is,  she  had  taught  herself  to  write, 
100 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

with  even  greater  mechanical  facility  than  Ned ; 
and  other  knowledge  had  fallen  upon  her,  as  it 
were,  by  a  reflected  light  from  him  ;  or,  to  use 
another  simile,  had  been  spattered  upon  her  by 
the  full  stream  which  the  Doctor  poured  into 
the  vessel  of  the  boy's  intellect.  So  that  she 
had  even  some  knowledge  of  the  rudiments  of 
Latin,  and  geometry,  and  algebra  ;  inaccurate 
enough,  but  yet  with  such  a  briskness  that  she 
was  sometimes  able  to  assist  Ned  in  studies  in 
which  he  was  far  more  deeply  grounded  than 
herself.  All  this,  however,  was  more  by  sym 
pathy  than  by  any  natural  taste  for  such  things  ; 
being  kindly,  and  sympathetic,  and  impressible, 
she  took  the  color  of  what  was  nearest  to  her, 
and  especially  when  it  came  from  a  beloved  ob 
ject,  so  that  it  was  difficult  to  discover  that  it  was 
not  really  one  of  her  native  tastes.  The  only 
thing,  perhaps,  altogether  suited  to  her  idiosyn 
crasy  (because  it  was  truly  feminine,  calculated 
for  dainty  fingers,  and  a  nice  little  subtlety)  was 
that  kind  of  embroidery,  twisting,  needlework, 
on  textile  fabric,  which,  as  we  have  before  said, 
she  learnt  from  crusty  Hannah,  and  which  was 
emblematic  perhaps  of  that  creature's  strange 
mixture  of  races. 

Elsie  seemed  not  only  to  have  caught  this  art 
in  its  original  spirit,  but  to  have  improved  upon 
it,  creating  strange,  fanciful,  and   graceful  de 
vices,  which  grew  beneath  her  ringer  as  naturally 
101 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

as  the  variegated  hues  grow  in  a  flower  as  it 
opens  ;  so  that  the  homeliest  material  assumed  a 
grace  and  strangeness  as  she  wove  it,  whether  it 
were  grass,  twigs,  shells,  or  what  not.  Never 
was  anything  seen,  that  so  combined  a  wild,  bar 
barian  freedom  with  cultivated  grace  ;  and  the 
grim  Doctor  himself,  little  open  to  the  impres 
sions  of  the  beautiful,  used  to  hold  some  of  her 
productions  in  his  hand,  gazing  at  them  with 
deep  intentness,  and  at  last,  perhaps,  breaking 
out  into  one  of  his  deep  roars  of  laughter  ;  for 
it  seemed  to  suggest  thoughts  to  him  that  the 
children  could  not  penetrate.  This  one  feature 
of  strangeness  and  wild  faculty  in  the  otherwise 
sweet  and  natural  and  homely  character  of  Elsie 
had  a  singular  effect ;  it  was  like  a  wreath  of 
wild  flowers  in  her  hair,  like  something  that  set 
her  a  little  way  apart  from  the  rest  of  the  world, 
and  had  an  even  more  striking  effect  than  if  she 
were  altogether  strange. 

Thus  were  the  little  family  going  on  ;  the 
Doctor,  I  regret  to  say,  growing  more  morose, 
self-involved,  and  unattainable  since  the  disap 
pearance  of  the  schoolmaster  than  before  ;  more 
given  up  to  his  one  plaything,  the  great  spider ; 
less  frequently  even  than  before  coming  out  of 
the  grim  seclusion  of  his  moodiness,  to  play  with 
the  children,  though  they  would  often  be  sensi 
ble  of  his  fierce  eyes  fixed  upon  them,  and  start 

102 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

and  feel  incommoded  by  the  intensity  of  his 
regard ;  —  thus  things  were  going  on,  when  one 
day  there  was  really  again  a  visitor,  and  not  a 
dilapidated  patient,  to  the  grim  Doctor's  study. 
Crusty  Hannah  brought  up  his  name  as  Mr. 
Hammond,  and  the  Doctor  —  filling  his  ever 
lasting  pipe,  meanwhile,  and  ordering  Hannah 
to  give  him  a  coal  (perhaps  this  was  the  circum 
stance  that  made  people  say  he  had  imps  to 
bring  him  coals  from  Tophet)  —  ordered  him 
to  be  shown  up.2 

A  fresh-colored,  rather  young  man3  entered  ' 
the  study,  a  person  of  rather  cold  and  ungrace 
ful  manners,  yet  genial-looking  enough;  at  least, 
not  repulsive.  He  was  dressed  in  rather  a 
rough,  serviceable  travelling  dress,  and  except 
for  a  nicely  brushed  hat  and  unmistakably  white 
linen,  was  rather  careless  in  attire.  You  would 
have  thought  twice,  perhaps,  before  deciding 
him  to  be  a  gentleman,  but  finally  would  have 
decided  that  he  was  ;  one  great  token  being,  that 
the  singular  aspect  of  the  room  into  which  he 
was  ushered,  the  spider  festoonery,  and  other 
strange  accompaniments,  the  grim  aspect  of  the 
Doctor  himself,  and  the  beauty  and  intelligence 
of  his  two  companions,  and  even  that  horrific 
weaver,  the  great  dangling  spider,  —  neither  one 
nor  all  of  these  called  any  expression  of  surprise 
to  the  stranger's  face. 

103 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

"  Your  name  is  Hammond  ?  "  begins  the 
Doctor,  with  his  usual  sparseness  of  ornamental 
courtesy.4 

The  stranger  bowed. 

"  An  Englishman,  I  perceive,"  continued  the 
Doctor,  but  nowise  intimating  that  the  fact  of 
being  a  countryman  was  any  recommendation 
in  his  eyes. 

"  Yes,  an  Englishman,'*  replied  Hammond  ; 
"  a  briefless  barrister,5  in  fact,  of  Lincoln's  Inn, 
who,  having  little  or  nothing  to  detain  him  at 
home,  has  come  to  spend  a  few  idle  months  in 
seeing  the  new  republic  which  has  been  made 
out  of  English  substance." 

"  And  what,"  continued  Doctor  Grim,  not  a 
whit  relaxing  the  repulsiveness  of  his  manner, 
and  scowling  askance  at  the  stranger,  —  "  what 
may  have  drawn  on  me  the  good  fortune  of 
being  compelled  to  make  my  time  idle,  because 
yours  is  so  ?  " 

The  stranger's  cheek  flushed  a  little ;  but  he 
smiled  to  himself,  as  if  saying  that  here  was  a 
grim,  rude  kind  of  humorist,  who  had  lost  the 
sense  of  his  own  peculiarity,  and  had  no  idea 
that  he  was  rude  at  all.  "  I  came  to  America, 
as  I  told  you,"  said  he,  "  chiefly  because  I  was 
idle,  and  wanted  to  turn  my  enforced  idleness 
to  what  profit  I  could,  in  the  way  of  seeing  men, 
manners,  governments,  and  problems,  which  I 
hope  to  have  no  time  to  study  by  and  by.  But 
104 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

I  also  had  an  errand  intrusted  to  me,  and  of  a 
singular  nature  ;  and  making  inquiry  in  this  lit 
tle  town  (where  my  mission  must  be  performed, 
if  at  all),  I  have  been  directed  to  you,  by  your 
townspeople,  as  to  a  person  not  unlikely  to  be 
able  to  assist  me  in  it." 

"  My  townspeople,  since  you  choose  to  call 
them  so,"  answered  the  grim  Doctor,  "  ought 
to  know,  by  this  time,  that  I  am  not  the  sort 
of  man  likely  to  assist  any  person,  in  any  way." 

"  Yet  this  is  so  singular  an  affair,"  said  the 
stranger,  still  with  mild  courtesy,  "  that  at  least 
it  may  excite  your  curiosity.  I  have  come  here 
to  find  a  grave." 

"  To  find  a  grave  !  "  said  Doctor  Grim,  giv 
ing  way  to  a  grim  sense  of  humor,  and  relaxing 
just  enough  to  let  out  a  joke,  the  tameness  of 
which  was  a  little  redeemed,  to  his  taste,  by  its 
grimness.  "  I  might  help  you  there,  to  be  sure, 
since  it  is  all  in  the  way  of  business.  Like  others 
of  my  profession,  I  have  helped  many  people  to 
find  their  graves,  no  doubt,  and  shall  be  happy 
to  do  the  same  for  you.  You  have  hit  upon 
the  one  thing  in  which  my  services  are  ready." 

"  I  thank  you,  my  dear  sir,"  said  the  young 
stranger,  having  tact  enough  to  laugh  at  Doctor 
Grim's  joke,  and  thereby  mollifying  him  a  little  ; 
"  but  as  far  as  I  am  personally  concerned,  I  pre 
fer  to  wait  a  while  before  making  the  discovery 
of  that  little  spot  in  Mother  Earth  which  I  am 
105 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

destined  to  occupy.  It  is  a  grave  which  has 
been  occupied  as  such  for  at  least  a  century  and 
a  half  which  I  am  in  quest  of;  and  it  is  as  an 
antiquarian,  a  genealogist,  a  person  who  has  had 
dealings  with  the  dead  of  long  ago,  not  as  a  pro 
fessional  man  engaged  in  adding  to  their  number, 
that  I  ask  your  aid." 

"  Ah,  ahah  !  "  said  the  Doctor,  laying  down 
his  pipe,  and  looking  earnestly  at  the  stranger ; 
not  kindly  nor  genially,  but  rather  with  a  lurid 
glance  of  suspicion  out  of  those  red  eyes  of  his, 
but  no  longer  with  a  desire  to  escape  an  intruder ; 
rather  as  one  who  meant  to  clutch  him.  "  Ex 
plain  your  meaning,  sir,  at  once/' 

"  Then  here  it  is,"  said  Mr.  Hammond. 
"  There  is  an  old  English  family,  one  of  the 
members  of  which,  very  long  ago,  emigrated  to 
this  part  of  America,  then  a  wilderness,  and  long 
afterwards  a  British  colony.  He  was  on  ill  terms 
with  his  family.  There  is  reason  to  believe  that 
documents,  deeds,  titular  proofs,  or  some  other 
thing  valuable  to  the  family,  were  buried  in  the 
grave  of  this  emigrant ;  and  there  have  been 
various  attempts,  within  a  century,  to  find  this 
grave,  and  if  possible  some  living  descendant 
of  the  man,  or  both,  under  the  idea  that  either 
of  these  cases  might  influence  the  disputed  de 
scent  of  the  property,  and  enable  the  family  to 
prove  its  claims  to  an  ancient  title.  Now,  rather 
as  a  matter  of  curiosity,  than  with  any  real  hope 
106 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

of  success, — and  being  slightly  connected  with 
the  family,  —  I  have  taken  what  seems  to  my 
self  a  wild-goose  chase ;  making  it  merely  inci 
dental,  you  will  understand,  not  by  any  means 
the  main  purpose  of  my  voyage  to  America/' 

"  What  is  the  name  of  this  family  ?  "  asked 
the  Doctor  abruptly. 

"  The  man  whose  grave  I  seek,"  said  the 
stranger,  "  lived  and  died,  in  this  country,  under 
the  assumed  name  of  Colcord." 

"  How  do  you  expect  to  succeed  in  this 
ridiculous  quest  ?  "  asked  the  Doctor, "  and  what 
marks,  signs,  directions,  have  you  to  guide  your 
search  ?  And  moreover,  how  have  you  come 
to  any  knowledge  whatever  about  the  matter, 
even  that  the  emigrant  ever  assumed  this  name 
of  Colcord,  and  that  he  was  buried  anywhere, 
and  that  his  place  of  burial,  after  more  than  a 
century,  is  of  the  slightest  importance  ?  " 

"  All  this  was  ascertained  by  a  messenger  on 
a  similar  errand  with  my  own,  only  undertaken 
nearly  a  century  ago,  and  more  in  earnest  than 
I  can  pretend  to  be,"  replied  the  Englishman. 
"  At  that  period,  however,  there  was  probably 
a  desire  to  find  nothing  that  might  take  the 
hereditary  possessions  of  the  family  out  of  the 
branch  which  still  held  them ;  and  there  is  strong 
reason  to  suspect  that  the  information  acquired 
was  purposely  kept  secret  by  the  person  in  Eng 
land  into  whose  hands  it  came.  The  thing  is 
107 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

differently  situated  now ;  the  possessor  of  the 
estate  is  recently  dead  ;  and  the  discovery  of  an 
American  heir  would  not  be  unacceptable  to 
many.  At  all  events,  any  knowledge  gained 
here  would  throw  light  on  a  somewhat  doubtful 
matter." 

"  Where,  as  nearly  as  you  can  judge,"  said  the 
Doctor,  after  a  turn  or  two  through  the  study, 
"  was  this  man  buried  ?  " 

"  He  spent  the  last  years  of  his  life,  certainly, 
in  this  town,"  said  Hammond,  "  and  may  be 
found,  if  at  all,  among  the  dead  of  that  period." 

"And  they  —  their  miserable  dust,  at  least, 
which  is  all  that  still  exists  of  them  —  were  buried 
in  the  graveyard  under  these  windows,"  said  the 
Doctor.  "  What  marks,  I  say,  —  for  you  might 
as  well  seek  a  vanished  wave  of  the  sea,  as  a  grave 
that  surged  upward  so  long  ago." 

"  On  the  gravestone,"  said  Hammond,  "  a 
slate  one,  there  was  rudely  sculptured  the  im 
press  of  a  foot.  What  it  signifies  I  cannot  con 
jecture,  except  it  had  some  reference  to  a  certain 
legend  of  a  bloody  footstep,  which  is  currently 
told,  and  some  token  of  which  yet  remains  on 
one  of  the  thresholds  of  the  ancient  mansion 
house." 

Ned  and  Elsie  had  withdrawn  themselves  from 

the  immediate  vicinity  of  the  fireside,  and  were 

playing  at  fox  and  geese  in  a  corner  near  the 

window.      But  little   Elsie,  having  very  quick 

1 08 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

ears,  and  a  faculty  of  attending  to  more  affairs 
than  one,  now  called  out,  "  Doctor  Grim,  Ned 
and  I  know  where  that  gravestone  is." 

"  Hush,  Elsie/'  whispered  Ned  earnestly. 

"  Come  forward   here,    both   of  you,"   said 
Doctor  Grimshawe. 

109 


CHAPTER  IX 

THE  two  children  approached,  and  stood 
before  the  Doctor  and  his  guest,  the 
latter  of  whom  had  not  hitherto  taken 
particular  notice  of  them.  He  now  looked  from 
one  to  the  other,  with  the  pleasant,  genial  ex 
pression  of  a  person  gifted  with  a  natural  liking 
for  children,  and  the  freemasonry  requisite  to 
bring  him  acquainted  with  them  ;  and  it  lighted 
up  his  face  with  a  pleasant  surprise  to  see  two 
such  beautiful  specimens  of  boyhood  and  girl 
hood  in  this  dismal,  spider-haunted  house,  and 
under  the  guardianship  of  such  a  savage  lout 
as  the  grim  Doctor.  He  seemed  particularly 
struck  by  the  intelligence  and  sensibility  of 
Ned's  face,  and  met  his  eyes  with  a  glance  that 
Ned  long  afterwards  remembered  ;  but  yet  he 
seemed  quite  as  much  interested  by  Elsie,  and 
gazed  at  her  face  with  a  perplexed,  inquiring 
glance. 

"These  are  fine  children,"  said  he.  "  May 
1  ask  if  they  are  your  own  ?  —  Pardon  me  if  I 
ask  amiss,"  added  he,  seeing  a  frown  on  the 
Doctor's  brow. 

"  Ask  nothing  about  the  brats,"  replied  he 
no 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

grimly.  "Thank  Heaven,  they  are  not  my 
children  ;  so  your  question  is  answered." 

"  I  again  ask  pardon,"  said  Mr.  Hammond. 
"  I  am  fond  of  children  ;  and  the  boy  has  a 
singularly  fine  countenance ;  not  in  the  least 
English.  The  true  American  face,  no  doubt. 
As  to  this  sweet  little  girl,  she  impresses  me 
with  a  vague  resemblance  to  some  person  I  have 
seen.  Hers  I  should  deem  an  English  face." 

"  These  children  are  not  our  topic,"  said  the 
grim  Doctor,  with  gruff  impatience.  "  If  they 
are  to  be  so,  our  conversation  is  ended.  Ned, 
what  do  you  know  of  this  gravestone  with  the 
bloody  foot  on  it  ?  " 

"  It  is  not  a  bloody  foot,  Doctor  Grim,"  said 
Ned,  "  and  I  am  not  sure  that  it  is  a  foot  at 
all ;  only  Elsie  and  I  chose  to  fancy  so,  because 
of  a  story  that  we  used  to  play  at.  But  we 
were  children  then.  The  gravestone  lies  on 
the  ground,  within  a  little  bit  of  a  walk  of  our 
door ;  but  this  snow  has  covered  it  all  over ; 
else  we  might  go  out  and  see  it." 

"  We  will  go  out  at  any  rate,"  said  the  Doc 
tor,  "  and  if  the  Englishman  chooses  to  come 
to  America,  he  must  take  our  snows  as  he  finds 
them.  Take  your  shovel,  Ned,  and  if  neces 
sary  we  will  uncover  the  gravestone." 

They  accordingly  muffled  themselves  in  their 
warmest,  and  plunged  forth  through  a  back 
in 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

door  into  Ned  and  Elsie's  playground,  as  the 
grim  Doctor  was  wont  to  call  it.  The  snow, 
except  in  one  spot  close  at  hand,  lay  deep,  like 
cold  oblivion,  over  the  surging  graves,  and  piled 
itself  in  drifted  heaps  against  every  stone  that 
raised  itself  above  the  level  ;  it  filled  enviously 
the  letters  of  the  inscriptions,  enveloping  all  the 
dead  in  one  great  winding-sheet,  whiter  and 
colder  than  those  which  they  had  individually 
worn.  The  dreary  space  was  pathless ;  not  a 
footstep  had  tracked  through  the  heavy  snow  ; 
for  it  must  be  warm  affection  indeed  that  could 
so  melt  this  wintry  impression  as  to  penetrate 
through  the  snow  and  frozen  earth,  and  estab 
lish  any  warm  thrills  with  the  dead  beneath  : 
daisies,  grass,  genial  earth,  these  allow  of  the 
magnetism  of  such  sentiments  ;  but  winter  sends 
them  shivering  back  to  the  baffled  heart. 

"  Well,  Ned,"  said  the  Doctor  impatiently. 

Ned  looked  about  him  somewhat  bewildered, 
and  then  pointed  to  a  spot  within  not  more 
than  ten  paces  of  the  threshold  which  they  had 
just  crossed ;  and  there  appeared,  not  a  grave 
stone,  but  a  new  grave  (if  any  grave  could  be 
called  new  in  that  often-dug  soil,  made  up  of 
old  mortality),  an  open  hole,  with  the  freshly 
dug  earth  piled  up  beside  it.  A  little  snow  (for 
there  had  been  a  gust  or  two  since  morning) 
appeared,  as  they  peeped  over  the  edge,  to  have 
fallen  into  it ;  but  not  enough  to  prevent  a  cof 

I  12 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

fin  from  finding  fit  room  and  accommodation 
in  it.  But  it  was  evident  that  the  grave  had 
been  dug  that  very  day. 

"  The  headstone,  with  the  foot  on  it,  was 
just  here,"  said  Ned,  in  much  perplexity,  "and, 
as  far  as  I  can  judge,  the  old  sunken  grave  ex 
actly  marked  out  the  space  of  this  new  one."  1 

"  It  is  a  shame,"  said  Elsie,  much  shocked 
at  the  indecorum,  "  that  the  new  person  should 
be  thrust  in  here  ;  for  the  old  one  was  a  friend 
of  ours." 

"  But  what  has  become  of  the  headstone !  " 
exclaimed  the  young  English  stranger. 

During  their  perplexity,  a  person  had  ap 
proached  the  group,  wading  through  the  snow 
from  the  gateway  giving  entrance  from  the 
street ;  a  gaunt  figure,  with  stooping  shoulders, 
over  one  of  which  was  a  spade  and  some  other 
tool  fit  for  delving  in  the  earth ;  and  in  his  face 
there  was  the  sort  of  keen,  humorous  twinkle 
that  grave-diggers  somehow  seem  to  get,  as  if 
the  dolorous  character  of  their  business  necessi 
tated  something  unlike  itself  by  an  inevitable 
reaction. 

"  Well,  Doctor,"  said  he,  with  a  shrewd  wink 
in  his  face,  "  are  you  looking  for  one  of  your 
patients  ?  The  man  who  is  to  be  put  to  bed 
here  was  never  caught  in  your  spider's  web." 

"  No,"  said  Doctor  Grimshawe  ;  "  when  my 
patients  have  done  with  me,  I  leave  them  to 
"3 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

you  and  the  old  Nick,  and  never  trouble  my 
self  about  them  more.  What  I  want  to  know 
is,  why  you  have  taken  upon  you  to  steal  a 
man's  grave,  after  he  has  had  immemorial  pos 
session  of  it.  By  what  right  have  you  dug  up 
this  bed,  undoing  the  work  of  a  predecessor  of 
yours,  who  has  long  since  slept  in  one  of  his 
own  furrows  ?  " 

"  Why,  Doctor,"  said  the  grave-digger,  look 
ing  quietly  into  the  cavernous  pit  which  he  had 
hollowed,  "  it  is  against  common  sense  that  a 
dead  man  should  think  to  keep  a  grave  to  him 
self  longer  than  till  you  can  take  up  his  sub 
stance  in  a  shovel.  It  would  be  a  strange  thing 
enough,  if,  when  living  families  are  turned  out 
of  their  homes  twice  or  thrice  in  a  generation 
(as  they  are  likely  to  be  in  our  new  govern 
ment),  a  dead  man  should  think  he  must  sleep 
in  one  spot  till  the  day  of  judgment.  No ; 
turn  about,  I  say,  to  these  old  fellows.  As 
long  as  they  can  decently  be  called  dead  men, 
I  let  them  lie  ;  when  they  are  nothing  but  dust, 
I  just  take  leave  to  stir  them  on  occasion.  This 
is  the  way  we  do  things  under  the  republic, 
whatever  your  customs  be  in  the  old  country." 

"  Matters  are  very  much  the  same  in  any  old 
English  churchyard,"  said  the  English  stranger. 
"  But,  my  good  friend,  I  have  come  three 
thousand  miles,  partly  to  find  this  grave,  and 
am  a  little  disappointed  to  find  my  labor  lost." 
114 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

"  Ah  !  and  you  are  the  man  my  father  was 
looking  for,"  said  the  grave-digger,  nodding  his 
head  at  Mr.  Hammond.  "  My  father,  who 
was  a  grave-digger  afore  me,  died  four  and 
thirty  years  ago,  when  we  were  under  the  King ; 
and  says  he,  c  Ebenezer,  do  not  you  turn  up  a 
sod  in  this  spot,  till  you  have  turned  up  every 
other  in  the  ground.*  And  I  have  always 
obeyed  him." 

"  And  what  was  the  reason  of  such  a  singu 
lar  prohibition  ?  "  asked  Hammond. 

"  My  father  knew,"  said  the  grave-digger, 
"  and  he  told  me  the  reason  too  ;  but  since  we 
are  under  the  republic,  we  have  given  up  re 
membering  those  old-world  legends,  as  we  used 
to.  The  newspapers  keep  us  from  talking  in 
the  chimney  corner  ;  and  so  things  go  out  of 
our  minds.  An  old  man,  with  his  stories  of 
what  he  has  seen,  and  what  his  great-grandfather 
saw  before  him,  is  of  little  account  since  news 
papers  came  up.  Stop  —  I  remember  —  no,  I 
forget,  —  it  was  something  about  the  grave 
holding  a  witness,  who  had  been  sought  before 
and  might  be  again." 

"  And  that  is  all  you  know  about  it?  "  said 
Hammond. 

"  All,  —  every  mite,"  said  the  old  grave-dig 
ger.  "  But  my  father  knew,  and  would  have 
been  glad  to  tell  you  the  whole  story.  There 
was  a  great  deal  of  wisdom  and  knowledge, 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

about  graves  especially,  buried  out  yonder  where 
my  old  father  was  put  away,  before  the  Stamp 
Act  was  thought  of.  But  it  is  no  great  matter, 
I  suppose.  People  don't  care  about  old  graves 
in  these  times.  They  just  live,  and  put  the 
dead  out  of  sight  and  out  of  mind." 

"  Well ;  but  what  have  you  done  with  the 
headstone  ?  "  said  the  Doctor.  "  You  can't 
have  eaten  it  up." 

"  No,  no,  Doctor,"  said  the  grave-digger, 
laughing ;  "  it  would  crack  better  teeth  than 
mine,  old  and  crumbly  as  it  is.  And  yet  I 
meant  to  do  something  with  it  that  is  akin  to 
eating  ;  for  my  oven  needs  a  new  floor,  and  I 
thought  to  take  this  stone,  which  would  stand 
the  fire  well.  But  here,"  continued  he,  scrap 
ing  away  the  snow  with  his  shovel,  a  task  in 
which  little  Ned  gave  his  assistance,  —  "  here 
is  the  headstone,  just  as  I  have  always  seen  it, 
and  as  my  father  saw  it  before  me." 

The  ancient  memorial,  being  cleared  of  snow, 
proved  to  be  a  slab  of  freestone,  with  some  rude 
traces  of  carving  in  bas-relief  around  the  border, 
now  much  effaced,  and  an  impression,  which 
seemed  to  be  as  much  like  a  human  foot  as  any 
thing  else,  sunk  into  the  slab ;  but  this  device 
was  wrought  in  a  much  more  clumsy  way  than 
the  ornamented  border,  and  evidently  by  an  un 
skilful  hand.  Beneath  was  an  inscription,  over 
which  the  hard,  flat  lichens  had  grown,  and  done 
116 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

their  best  to  obliterate  it,  although  the  follow 
ing  words  might  be  written'2  or  guessed  :  — 

"  Here  lyeth  the  mortal  part  of  Thomas  Col- 
cord,  an  upright  man,  of  tender  and  devout 
soul,  who  departed  this  troublous  life  Septem 
ber  ye  nineteenth,  1667,  aged  57  years  and  nine 
months.  Happier  in  his  death  than  in  his 
lifetime.  Let  his  bones  be/' 

The  name,  Colcord,  was  somewhat  defaced  ; 
it  was  impossible,  in  the  general  disintegration 
of  the  stone,  to  tell  whether  wantonly,  or  with 
a  purpose  of  altering  and  correcting  some  error 
in  the  spelling,  or,  as  occurred  to  Hammond,  to 
change  the  name  entirely. 

"  This  is  very  unsatisfactory/'  said  Ham 
mond,  "  but  very  curious,  too.  But  this  cer 
tainly  is  the  impress  of  what  was  meant  for  a 
human  foot,  and  coincides  strangely  with  the 
legend  of  the  Bloody  Footstep,  —  the  mark  of 
the  foot  that  trod  in  the  blessed  King  Charles's 
blood." 

"  For  that  matter,"  said  the  grave-digger, 
"  it  comes  into  my  mind  that  my  father  used  to 
call  it  the  stamp  of  Satan's  foot,  because  he 
claimed  the  dead  man  for  his  own.  It  is  plain 
to  see  that  there  was  a  deep  cleft  between  two 
of  the  toes." 

"There  are  two  ways  of  telling  that  legend," 
remarked  the  Doctor.     "  But  did  you  find  no 
thing  in  the  grave,  Hewen?  " 
117 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

"  O,  yes,  —  a  bone  or  two,  —  as  much  as 
could  be  expected  after  above  a  hundred  years," 
said  the  grave-digger.  "  I  tossed  them  aside  ; 
and  if  you  are  curious  about  them,  you  will  find 
them  when  the  snow  melts.  That  was  all ;  and 
it  would  have  been  unreasonable  in  old  Colcord 
—  especially  in  these  republican  times  —  to  have 
wanted  to  keep  his  grave  any  longer,  when  there 
was  so  little  of  him  left." 

"  I  must  drop  the  matter  here,  then,"  said 
Hammond,  with  a  sigh.  "  Here,  my  friend,  is 
a  trifle  for  your  trouble." 

"  No  trouble,"  said  the  grave-digger, "  and  in 
these  republican  times  we  can't  take  anything 
for  nothing,  because  it  won't  do  for  a  poor  man 
to  take  off  his  hat  and  say  thank  you." 

Nevertheless,  he  did  take  the  silver,  and 
winked  a  sort  of  acknowledgment. 

The  Doctor,  with  unwonted  hospitality,  in 
vited  the  English  stranger  to  dine  in  his  house ; 
and  though  there  was  no  pretence  of  cordiality 
in  the  invitation,  Mr.  Hammond  accepted  it, 
being  probably  influenced  by  curiosity  to  make 
out  some  definite  idea  of  the  strange  household 
in  which  he  found  himself.  Doctor  Grimshawe 
having  taken  it  upon  him  to  be  host,  —  for,  up 
to  this  time,  the  stranger  stood  upon  his  own 
responsibility,  and,  having  voluntarily  presented 
himself  to  the  Doctor,  had  only  himself  to  thank 
for  any  scant  courtesy  he  might  meet,  —  but 
118 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

now  the  grim  Doctor  became  genial  after  his 
own  fashion.  At  dinner  he  produced  a  bottle 
of  port,  which  made  the  young  Englishman  al 
most  fancy  himself  on  the  other  side  of  the 
water ;  and  he  entered  into  a  conversation, 
which  I  fancy  was  the  chief  object  which  the 
grim  Doctor  had  in  view  in  showing  himself  in 
so  amiable  a  light,3  for  in  the  course  of  it  the 
stranger  was  insensibly  led  to  disclose  many 
things,  as  it  were  of  his  own  accord,  relating  to 
the  part  of  England  whence  he  came,  and  espe 
cially  to  the  estate  and  family  which  have  been 
before  mentioned,  —  the  present  state  of  that 
family,  together  with  other  things  that  he  seemed 
to  himself  to  pour  out  naturally,  —  for,  at  last, 
he  drew  himself  up,  and  attempted  an  excuse. 

"  Your  good  wine/*  said  he,  "  or  the  unex 
pected  accident  of  meeting  a  countryman,  has 
made  me  unusually  talkative,  and  on  subjects, 
I  fear,  which  have  not  a  particular  interest  for 
you." 

"  I  have  not  quite  succeeded  in  shaking  off 
my  country,  as  you  see,"  said  Doctor  Grim- 
shawe,  "  though  I  neither  expect  nor  wish  ever 
to  see  it  again." 

There  was  something  rather  ungracious  in  the 
grim  Doctor's  response,  and  as  they  now  ad 
journed  to  his  study,  and  the  Doctor  betook  him 
self  to  his  pipe  and  tumbler,  the  young  English 
man  sought  to  increase  his  acquaintance  with 
119 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

the  two  children,  both  of  whom  showed  them 
selves  graciously  inclined  towards  him  ;  more 
warmly  so  than  they  had  been  to  the  school 
master,  as  he  was  the  only  other  guest  whom 
they  had  ever  met. 

"  Would  you  like  to  see  England,  my  little 
fellow?  "  he  inquired  of  Ned. 

"  O,  very  much  !  more  than  anything  else 
in  the  world,"  replied  the  boy  ;  his  eyes  gleam 
ing  and  his  cheeks  flushing  with  the  earnestness 
of  his  response  ;  for,  indeed,  the  question  stirred 
up  all  the  dreams  and  reveries  which  the  child 
had  cherished,  far  back  into  the  dim  regions  of 
his  memory.  After  what  the  Doctor  had  told 
him  of  his  origin,  he  had  never  felt  any  home 
feeling  here  ;  it  seemed  to  him  that  he  was  wan 
dering  Ned,  whom  the  wind  had  blown  from 
afar.  Somehow  or  other,  from  many  circum 
stances  which  he  put  together  and  seethed  in  his 
own  childish  imagination,  it  seemed  to  him  that 
he  was  to  go  back  to  that  far  old  country,  and 
there  wander  among  the  green,  ivy-grown,  ven 
erable  scenes  ;  the  older  he  grew,  the  more  his 
mind  took  depth,  the  stronger  was  this  fancy  in 
him  ;  though  even  to  Elsie  he  had  scarcely 
breathed  it. 

"  So  strong  a  desire,"  said  the  stranger,  smil 
ing  at  his  earnestness,  "  will  be  sure  to  work  out 
its  own  accomplishment.  I  shall  meet  you  in 
England,  my  young  friend,  one  day  or  another, 

120 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

And  you,  my  little  girl,  are  you  as  anxious  to 
see  England  as  your  brother  ?  " 

"Ned  is  not  my  brother,"  said  little  Elsie. 

The  Doctor  here  interposed  some  remark  on 
a  different  subject ;  for  it  was  observable  that  he 
never  liked  to  have  the  conversation  turn  on 
these  children,  their  parentage,  or  relations  to 
each  other  or  himself.  The  children  were  sent 
to  bed  ;  and  the  young  Englishman,  finding  the 
conversation  lag,  and  his  host  becoming  gruffer 
and  less  communicative  than  he  thought  quite 
courteous,  retired.  But  before  he  went,  how 
ever,  he  could  not  refrain  from  making  a  remark 
on  the  gigantic  spider,  which  was  swinging  like 
a  pendulum  above  the  Doctor's  head. 

"  What  a  singular  pet !  "  said  he  ;  for  the  ner 
vous  part  of  him  had  latterly  been  getting  up 
permost,  so  that  it  disturbed  him  ;  in  fact,  the 
spider  above  and  the  grim  man  below  equally 
disturbed  him.  "  Are  you  a  naturalist  ?  Have 
you  noted  his  habits  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  the  Doctor, "  I  have  learned  from 
his  web  how  to  weave  a  plot,  and  how  to  catch 
my  victim  and  devour  him  ! " 

"  Thank  God,"  said  the  Englishman,  as  he 
issued  forth  into  the  cold  gray  night,  "  I  have 
escaped  the  grim  fellow's  web,  at  all  events. 
How  strange  a  group,  —  those  two  sweet  chil 
dren,  that  grim  old  man  !  " 

As  regards  this  matter  of  the  ancient  grave, 

121 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

it  remains  to  be  recorded,  that,  when  the  snow 
melted,  little  Ned  and  Elsie  went  to  look  at  the 
spot,  where,  by  this  time,  there  was  a  little  hil 
lock  with  the  brown  sods  laid  duly  upon  it, 
which  the  coming  spring  would  make  green.  By 
the  side  of  it  they  saw,  with  more  curiosity  than 
repugnance,  a  few  fragments  of  crumbly  bones, 
which  they  plausibly  conjectured  to  have  apper 
tained  to  some  part  of  the  framework  of  the  an 
cient  Colcord,  wherewith  he  had  walked  through 
the  troublous  life  of  which  his  gravestone  spoke. 
And  little  Elsie,  whose  eyes  were  very  sharp, 
and  her  observant  qualities  of  the  quickest,  found 
something  which  Ned  at  first  pronounced  to  be 
only  a  bit  of  old  iron,  incrusted  with  earth ;  but 
Elsie  persisted  to  knock  off  some  of  the  earth 
that  seemed  to  have  incrusted  it,  and  discovered 
a  key.  The  children  ran  with  their  prize  to  the 
grim  Doctor,  who  took  it  between  his  thumb 
and  finger,  turned  it  over  and  over,  and  then 
proceeded  to  rub  it  with  a  chemical  substance 
which  soon  made  it  bright.  It  proved  to  be  a 
silver  key,  of  antique  and  curious  workmanship. 

"  Perhaps  this  is  what  Mr.  Hammond  was  in 
search  of,"  said  Ned.  "  What  a  pity  he  is  gone  ! 
Perhaps  we  can  send  it  after  him." 

"  Nonsense,"  said  the  gruff  Doctor. 

And  attaching  the  key  to  a  chain,  which  he 
took  from  a  drawer,  and  which  seemed  to  be 
gold,  he  hung  it  round  Ned's  neck. 

122 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

"  When  you  find  a  lock  for  this  key,"  said 
he,  "  open  it,  and  consider  yourself  heir  of  what 
ever  treasure  is  revealed  there  !  " 

Ned  continued  that  sad,  fatal  habit  of  growing 
out  of  childhood,  as  boys  will,  until  he  was  now 
about  ten  years  old,  and  little  Elsie  as  much  as 
six  or  seven.  He  looked  healthy,  but  pale; 
something  there  was  in  the  character  and  influ 
ences  of  his  life  that  made  him  look  as  if  he  were 
growing  up  in  a  shadow,  with  less  sunshine  than 
he  needed  for  a  robust  and  exuberant  develop 
ment,  though  enough  to  make  his  intellectual 
growth  tend  towards  a  little  luxuriance,  in  some 
directions.  He  was  likely  to  turn  out  a  fanci 
ful,  perhaps  a  poetic  youth  ;  young  as  he  was, 
there  had  been  already  discoveries,  on  the  grim 
Doctor's  part,  of  certain  blotted  and  clumsily 
scrawled  scraps  of  paper,  the  chirography  on 
which  was  arrayed  in  marshalled  lines  of  un 
equal  length,  and  each  commanded  by  a  capital 
letter  and  marching  on  from  six  to  ten  lame  feet. 
Doctor  Grim  inspected  these  things  curiously, 
and  to  say  the  truth  most  scornfully,  before  he 
took  them  to  light  his  pipe  withal  ;  but  they 
told  him  little  as  regarded  this  boy's  internal 
state,  being  mere  echoes,  and  very  lugubrious 
ones,  of  poetic  strains  that  were  floating  about 
in  the  atmosphere  of  that  day,  long  before  any 
now  remembered  bard  had  begun  to  sing.  But 
there  were  the  rudiments  of  a  poetic  and  ima- 
123 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

ginative  mind  within  the  boy,  if  its  subsequent 
culture  should  be  such  as  the  growth  of  that 
delicate  flower  requires  ;  a  brooding  habit  taking 
outward  things  into  itself  and  imbuing  them 
with  its  own  essence  until,  after  they  had  lain 
there  awhile,  they  assumed  a  relation  both  to 
truth  and  to  himself,  and  became  mediums  to 
affect  other  minds  with  the  magnetism  of  his 
own.  He  lived  far  too  much  an  inward  life  for 
healthfulness,  at  his  age ;  the  peculiarity  of  his 
situation,  a  child  of  mystery,  with  certain  reaches 
and  vistas  that  seemed  to  promise  a  bright  solu 
tion  of  his  mystery,  keeping  his  imagination 
always  awake  and  strong.  That  castle  in  the 
air,  —  so  much  more  vivid  than  other  castles, 
because  it  had  perhaps  a  real  substance  of  an 
cient,  ivy-grown,  hewn  stone  somewhere,  —  that 
visionary  hall  in  England,  with  its  surrounding 
woods  and  fine  lawns,  and  the  beckoning  shad 
ows  at  the  ancient  windows,  and  that  fearful 
threshold,  with  the  blood  still  glistening  on  it, 
—  he  dwelt  and  wandered  so  much  there,  that 
he  had  no  real  life  in  the  sombre  house  on  the 
corner  of  the  graveyard  ;  except  that  the  loneli 
ness  of  the  latter,  and  the  grim  Doctor  with  his 
grotesque  surroundings,  and  then  the  great  ugly 
spider,  and  that  odd,  inhuman  mixture  of  crusty 
Hannah,  all  served  to  remove  him  out  of  the 
influences  of  common  life.  Little  Elsie  was  all 
that  he  had  to  keep  life  real,  and  substantial  ; 
124 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

and  she,  a  child  so  much  younger  than  he,  was 
influenced  by  the  same  circumstances,  and  stil] 
more  by  himself,  so  that,  as  far  as  he  could  im 
part  himself  to  her,  he  led  her  hand  in  hand 
through  the  same  dream  scenery  amid  which  he 
strayed  himself.  They  knew  not  another  child 
in  town  ;  the  grim  Doctor  was  their  only  friend. 
As  for  Ned,  this  seclusion  had  its  customary  and 
normal  effect  upon  him  ;  it  had  made  him  think 
ridiculously  high  of  his  own  gifts,  powers,  at 
tainments,  and  at  the  same  time  doubt  whether 
they  would  pass  with  those  of  others ;  it  made 
him  despise  all  flesh,  as  if  he  were  of  a  superior 
race,  and  yet  have  an  idle  and  weak  fear  of  com 
ing  in  contact  with  them,  from  a  dread  of  his 
incompetency  to  cope  with  them  ;  so  he  at  once 
depreciated  and  exalted,  to  an  absurd  degree, 
both  himself  and  others. 

"  Ned,"  said  the  Doctor  to  him  one  day,  in 
his  gruffest  tone,  "  you  are  not  turning  out  to 
be  the  boy  I  looked  for  and  meant  to  make.  I 
have  given  you  sturdy  English  instruction,  and 
solidly  grounded  you  in  matters  that  the  poor 
superficial  people  and  time  merely  skim  over  ; 
I  looked  to  see  the  rudiments  of  a  man  in  you 
by  this  time  ;  and  you  begin  to  mope  and  pule 
as  if  your  babyhood  were  coming  back  on  you. 
You  seem  to  think  more  than  a  boy  of  your 
years  should ;  and  yet  it  is  not  manly  thought, 
nor  ever  will  be  so.  What  do  you  mean,  boy, 
125 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

by  making  all  my  care  of  you  come  to  nothing, 
in  this  way  ?  " 

"  I  do  my  best,  Doctor  Grim,"  said  Ned, 
with  sullen  dignity.  "  What  you  teach  me,  I 
learn.  What  more  can  I  do  ?  " 

"  I  '11  tell  you  what,  my  fine  fellow,"  quoth 
Doctor  Grim,  getting  rude,  as  was  his  habit. 
"  You  disappoint  me,  and  I  '11  not  bear  it.  I 
want  you  to  be  a  man  ;  and  I  '11  have  you  a 
man  or  nothing.  If  I  had  foreboded  such  a 
fellow  as  you  turn  out  to  be,  I  never  would 
have  taken  you  from  the  place  where,  as  I  once 
told  you,  I  found  you,  —  the  almshouse  !  " 

"  O,  Doctor  Grim,  Doctor  Grim  !  "  cried  lit 
tle  Elsie,  in  a  tone  of  grief  and  bitter  reproach. 

Ned  had  risen  slowly,  as  the  Doctor  uttered 
those  last  words,  turning  as  white  as  a  sheet, 
and  stood  gazing  at  him,  with  large  eyes,  in 
which  there  was  a  calm  upbraiding  ;  a  strange 
dignity  was  in  his  childish  aspect,  which  was  no 
longer  childish,  but  seemed  to  have  grown  older 
all  in  a  moment. 

"  Sir,"  added  the  Doctor,  incensed  at  the 
boy's  aspect,  "  there  is  nonsense  that  ought  to 
be  whipt  out  of  you." 

"  You  have  said  enough,  sir,"  said  the  boy. 

"  Would  to  God  you  had  left  me  where  you 

found    me  ! 4      It  was    not   my  fault    that  you 

took  me  from  the  almshouse.      But  it  will  be 

126 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

my  fault  if  I  ever  eat  another  bit  of  your  bread, 
or  stay  under  your  roof  an  hour  longer." 

He  was  moving  towards  the  door,  but  little 
Elsie  sprung  upon  him  and  caught  him  round 
the  neck,  although  he  repelled  her  with  severe 
dignity ;  and  Doctor  Grimshawe,  after  a  look 
at  the  group  in  which  a  bitter  sort  of  mirth  and 
mischief  struggled  with  a  better  and  kindlier 
sentiment,  at  last  flung  his  pipe  into  the  chim 
ney,  hastily  quaffed  the  remnant  of  a  tumbler, 
and  shuffled  after  Ned,  kicking  off  his  old  slip 
pers  in  his  hurry.  He  caught  the  boy  just  by 
the  door. 

"  Ned,  Ned,  my  boy,  I  'm  sorry  for  what  I 
said,"  cried  he.  "  I  am  a  guzzling  old  block 
head,  and  don't  know  how  to  treat  a  gentleman 
when  he  honors  me  with  his  company.  It  is 
not  in  my  blood  nor  breeding  to  have  such 
knowledge.  Ned,  you  will  make  a  man,  and  I 
lied  if  I  said  otherwise.  Come,  I  'm  sorry,  I  'm 
sorry." 

The  boy  was  easily  touched,  at  these  years, 
as  a  boy  ought  to  be  ;  and  though  he  had  not 
yet  forgiven  the  grim  Doctor,  the  tears,  to  his 
especial  shame,  gushed  out  of  his  eyes  in  a  tor 
rent,  and  his  whole  frame  shook  with  sobs. 
The  Doctor  caught  him  in  his  arms,  and  hugged 
him  to  his  old  tobacco-fragrant  dressing-gown, 
hugged  him  like  a  bear,  as  he  was  ;  so  that 
127 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

poor  Ned  hardly  knew  whether  he  was  embra 
cing  him  with  his  love,  or  squeezing  him  tc 
death  in  his  wrath. 

"  Ned,"  said  he,  "  I  'm  not  going  to  live  a 
great  while  longer ;  I  seem  an  eternal  nuisance 
to  you,  I  know ;  but  it 's  not  so,  I  'm  mortal 
and  I  feel  myself  breaking  up.  Let  us  be 
friends  while  I  live ;  for  believe  me,  Ned,  I  Ve 
done  as  well  by  you  as  I  knew,  and  care  for 
nothing,  love  nothing,  so  much  as  you.  Little 
Elsie  here,  yes.  I  love  her  too.  But  that 's 
different.  You  are  a  boy,  and  will  be  a  man  ; 
and  a  man  whom  I  destine  to  do  for  me  what 
it  has  been  the  object  of  my  life  to  achieve. 
Let  us  be  friends.  We  will  —  we  must  be 
friends  ;  and  when  old  Doctor  Grim,  worthless 
wretch  that  he  is,  sleeps  in  his  grave,  you  shall 
not  have  the  pang  of  having  parted  from  him 
in  unkindness.  Forgive  me,  Ned  ;  and  not 
only  that,  but  love  me  better  than  ever ;  for 
though  I  am  a  hasty  old  wretch,  I  am  not  alto 
gether  evil  as  regards  you." 

I  know  not  whether  the  Doctor  would  have 
said  all  this,  if  the  day  had  not  been  pretty 
well  advanced,  and  if  his  potations  had  not  been 
many  ;  but,  at  any  rate,  he  spoke  no  more  than 
he  felt,  and  his  emotions  thrilled  through  the 
sensitive  system  of  the  boy,  and  quite  melted 
him  down.  He  forgave  Doctor  Grim,  and,  as 
he  asked,  loved  him  better  than  ever ;  and  so 
128 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

did  Elsie.  Then  it  was  so  sweet,  so  good,  to 
have  had  this  one  outgush  of  affection,  —  he, 
poor  child,  who  had  no  memory  of  mother's 
kisses,  or  of  being  cared  for  out  of  tenderness, 
and  whose  heart  had  been  hungry,  all  his  life, 
for  some  such  thing ;  and  probably  Doctor 
Grim,  in  his  way,  had  the  same  kind  of  enjoy 
ment  of  this  passionate  crisis  ;  so  that  though, 
the  next  day,  they  all  three  looked  at  one  an 
other  a  little  ashamed,  yet  it  had  some  remote 
analogy  to  that  delicious  embarrassment  of  two 
lovers,  at  their  first  meeting  after  they  know  all. 

129 


CHAPTER   X 

IT  is  very  remarkable  that  Ned  had  so  much 
good  in  him  as  we  find  there  ;  in  the  first 
place,  born,  as  he  seemed  to  be,  of  a  wild, 
vagrant  stock,  a  seedling  sown  by  the  breezes, 
and  falling  among  the  rocks  and  sands ;  the 
growing  up  without  a  mother  to  cultivate  his 
tenderness  with  kisses,  and  the  inestimable,  in 
evitable  love  of  love  breaking  out  on  all  little 
occasions,  without  reference  to  merit  or  demerit, 
unfailing  whether  or  no  ;  mother's  faith  in  ex 
cellences,  the  buds  which  were  yet  invisible  to 
all  other  eyes,  but  to  which  her  warm  faith  was 
the  genial  sunshine  necessary  to  their  growth  ; 
mother's  generous  interpretation  of  all  that  was 
doubtful  in  him,  and  which  might  turn  out  good 
or  bad,  according  as  should  be  believed  of  it ; 
mother's  pride  in  whatever  the  boy  accom 
plished,  and  unfailing  excuses,  explanations, 
apologies,  so  satisfactory,  for  all  his  failures  ; 
mother's  deep  intuitive  insight,  which  should 
see  the  permanent  good  beneath  all  the  appear 
ance  of  temporary  evil,  being  wiser  through  her 
love  than  the  wisest  sage  could  be,  —  the  dull 
est,  homeliest  mother  than  the  wisest  sage.  The 
Creator,  apparently,  has  set  a  little  of  his  own 
130 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

infinite  wisdom  and  love  (which  are  one)  in  a 
mother's  heart,  so  that  no  child,  in  the  common 
course  of  things,  should  grow  up  without  some 
heavenly  instruction.  Instead  of  all  this,  and 
the  vast  deal  more  that  mothers  do  for  children, 
there  had  been  only  the  gruff,  passionate  Doc 
tor,  without  sense  of  religion,  with  only  a  fitful 
tenderness,  with  years'  length  between  the  fits, 
so  fiercely  critical,  so  wholly  unradiant  of  hope, 
misanthropic,  savagely  morbid.  Yes ;  there  was 
little  Elsie  too  ;  it  must  have  been  that  she  was 
the  boy's  preserver,  being  childhood,  sisterhood, 
womanhood,  all  that  there  had  been  for  him  of 
human  life,  and  enough  —  he  being  naturally  of 
such  good  stuff — to  keep  him  good.  He  had 
lost  much,  but  not  all  :  he  was  not  nearly  what 
he  might  have  been  under  better  auspices ;  flaws 
and  imperfections  there  were,  in  abundance, 
great  uncultivated  wastes  and  wildernesses  in 
his  moral  nature,  tangled  wilds  where  there 
might  have  been  stately,  venerable  religious 
groves ;  but  there  was  no  rank  growth  of  evil. 
That  unknown  mother,  that  had  no  opportu 
nity  to  nurse  her  boy,  must  have  had  gentle 
and  noblest  qualities  to  endow  him  with ;  a 
noble  father,  too,  a  long,  unstained  descent,  one 
would  have  thought.  Was  this  an  almshouse 
child  ? 

Doctor  Grim  knew,  very  probably,  that  there 
was  all  this  on  the  womanly  side  that  was  want- 
131 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

ing  to  Ned's  occasion  ;  and  very  probably,  too, 
being  a  man  not  without  insight,  he  was  aware 
that  tender  treatment,  as  a  mother  bestows  it, 
tends  likewise  to  foster  strength,  and  manliness 
of  character,  as  well  as  softer  developments  ;  but 
all  this  he  could  not  have  supplied,  and  now  as 
little  as  ever.  But  there  was  something  else 
which  Ned  ought  to  have,  and  might  have  ;  and 
this  was  intercourse  with  his  kind,  free  circula 
tion,  free  air,  instead  of  the  stived-up  house, 
with  the  breeze  from  the  graveyard  blowing 
over  it,  —  to  be  drawn  out  of  himself,  and  made 
to  share  the  life  of  many,  to  be  introduced,  at 
one  remove,  to  the  world  with  which  he  was  to 
contend.  To  this  end,  shortly  after  the  scene 
of  passion  and  reconciliation  above  described, 
the  Doctor  took  the  resolution  of  sending  Ned 
to  an  academy,  famous  in  that  day,  and  still 
extant.  Accordingly  they  all  three  —  the  grim 
Doctor,  Ned,  and  Elsie  —  set  forth,  one  day  of 
spring,  leaving  the  house  to  crusty  Hannah  and 
the  great  spider,  in  a  carryall,  being  the  only 
excursion  involving  a  night's  absence  that  either 
of  the  two  children  remembered  from  the  house 
by  the  graveyard,  as  at  nightfall  they  saw  the 
modest  pine-built  edifice,  with  its  cupola  and 
bell,  where  Ned  was  to  be  initiated  into  the 
schoolboy.  The  Doctor,  remembering  perhaps 
days  spent  in  some  gray,  stately,  legendary  great 
school  of  England,  instinct  with  the  boyhood 
132 


Leaving  the  bouse 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

of  men  afterwards  great,  puffed  forth  a  depreci 
ating  curse  upon  it ;  but  nevertheless  made  all 
arrangements  for  Ned's  behoof,  and  next  morn 
ing  prepared  to  leave  him  there. 

"  Ned,  my  son,  good-by,"  cried  he,  shaking 
the  little  fellow's  hand  as  he  stood  tearful  and 
wistful  beside  the  chaise  shivering  at  the  loneli 
ness  which  he  felt  settling  around  him,  —  a  new 
loneliness  to  him,  —  the  loneliness  of  a  crowd. 
"  Do  not  be  cast  down,  my  boy.  Face  the 
world  ;  grasp  the  thistle  strongly,  and  it  will 
sting  you  the  less.  Have  faith  in  your  own 
fist !  Fear  no  man  !  Have  no  secret  plot ! 
Never  do  what  you  think  wrong  !  If  hereafter 
you  learn  to  know  that  Doctor  Grim  was  a  bad 
man,  forgive  him,  and  be  a  better  one  yourself. 
Good-by,  and  if  my  blessing  be  good  for  any 
thing,  in  God's  name,  I  invoke  it  upon  you 
heartily." 

Little  Elsie  was  sobbing,  and  flung  her  arms 
about  Ned's  neck,  and  he  his  about  hers ;  so 
that  they  parted  without  a  word.  As  they 
drove  away,  a  singular  sort  of  presentiment 
came  over  the  boy,  as  he  stood  looking  after 
them. 

"  It  is  all  over,  —  all  over,"  said  he  to  him 
self:  "Doctor  Grim  and  little  Elsie  are  gone 
out  of  my  life.  They  leave  me  and  will  never 
come  back  —  not  they  to  me,  not  I  to  them. 
O,  how  cold  the  world  is  !  Would  we  three  -- 
133 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

the  Doctor,  and  Elsie,  and  I  —  could  have  lain 
down  in  a  row,  in  the  old  graveyard,  close  under 
the  eaves  of  the  house,  and  let  the  grass  grow 
over  us.  The  world  is  cold  ;  and  I  am  an  alms- 
house  child/' 

The  house  by  the  graveyard  seemed  dismal 
now,  no  doubt,  to  little  Elsie,  who,  being  of  a 
cheerful  nature  herself  (common  natures  often 
having  this  delusion  about  a  home),  had  grown 
up  with  the  idea  that  it  was  the  most  delightful 
spot  in  the  world ;  the  place  fullest  of  pleasant 
play,  and  of  household  love  (because  her  own 
love  welled  over  out  of  her  heart,  like  a  spring 
in  a  barrel) ;  the  place  where  everybody  was 
kind  and  good,  the  world  beyond  its  threshold 
appearing  perhaps  strange  and  sombre ;  the  spot 
where  it  was  pleasantest  to  be,  for  its  own  mere 
sake ;  the  dim  old,  homely  place,  so  warm  and 
cosy  in  winter,  so  cool  in  summer.  Who  else 
was  fortunate  enough  to  have  such  a  home,  — 
with  that  nice,  kind,  beautiful  Ned,  and  that 
dear,  kind,  gentle,  old  Doctor  Grim,  with  his 
sweet  ways,  so  wise,  so  upright,  so  good,  beyond 
all  other  men  ?  O,  happy  girl  that  she  was,  to 
have  grown  up  in  such  a  home  !  Was  there 
ever  any  other  house  with  such  cosy  nooks  in 
it  ?  Such  probably  were  the  feelings  of  good  lit 
tle  Elsie  about  this  place,  which  has  seemed  to 
us  so  dismal ;  for  the  home  feeling  in  the  child's 
heart,  her  warm,  cheerful,  affectionate  nature, 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

was  a  magic,  so  far  as  she  herself  was  concerned, 
and  made  all  the  house  and  its  inmates  over 
after  her  own  fashion.  But  now  that  little  Ned 
was  gone,  there  came  a  change.  She  moped 
about  the  house,  and,  for  the  first  time,  sus 
pected  it  was  dismal. 

As  for  the  grim  Doctor,  there  did  not  appear 
to  be  much  alteration  in  that  hard  old  charac 
ter  ;  perhaps  he  drank  a  little  more,  though  that 
was  doubtful,  because  it  is  difficult  to  see  where 
he  could  find  niches  to  stick  in  more  frequent 
drinks.  Nor  did  he  more  frequently  breathe 
through  the  pipe.  He  fell  into  desuetude,  how 
ever,  of  his  daily  walk,1  and  sent  Elsie  to  play 
by  herself  in  the  graveyard  (a  dreary  business 
enough  for  the  poor  child)  instead  of  taking  her 
to  country  or  seaside  himself.  He  was  more 
savage  and  blasphemous,  sometimes,  than  he 
had  been  heretofore  known  to  be ;  but,  on  the 
other  hand,  he  was  sometimes  softer,  with  a 
kind  of  weary  consenting  to  circumstances,  in 
tervals  of  helpless  resignation,  when  he  no 
longer  fought  and  struggled  in  his  heart.  He 
did  not  seem  to  be  alive  all  the  time ;  but,  on 
the  other  hand,  he  was  sometimes  a  good  deal 
too  much  alive,  and  could  not  bear  his  potations 
as  well  as  he  used  to  do,  and  was  overheard 
blaspheming  at  himself  for  being  so  weakly, 
and  having  a  brain  that  could  not  bear  a  thim 
bleful,  and  growing  to  be  a  milksop  like  Colcord, 
135 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

as  he  said.  This  person,  of  whom  the  Doctor 
and  his  young  people  had  had  such  a  brief  ex 
perience,  appeared  nevertheless  to  hang  upon 
his  remembrance  in  a  singular  way,  —  the  more 
singular  as  there  was  little  resemblance  between 
them,  or  apparent  possibility  of  sympathy.  Lit 
tle  Elsie  was  startled  to  hear  Doctor  Grim  some 
times  call  out,  "  Colcord  !  Colcord  !  •"  as  if  he 
were  summoning  a  spirit  from  some  secret  place. 
He  muttered,  sitting  by  himself,  long,  indistinct 
masses  of  talk,  in  which  this  name  was  discern 
ible,  and  other  names.  Going  on  mumbling, 
by  the  hour  together,  great  masses  of  vague 
trouble,  in  which,  if  it  only  could  have  been  un 
ravelled  and  put  in  order,  no  doubt  all  the  se 
crets  of  his  life,  —  secrets  of  wrath,  guilt,  ven 
geance,  love,  hatred,  all  beaten  up  together, 
and  the  best  quite  spoiled  by  the  worst,  might 
have  been  found.  His  mind  evidently  wan 
dered.  Sometimes,  he  seemed  to  be  holding 
conversation  with  unseen  interlocutors,  and  al 
most  invariably,  so  far  as  could  be  gathered,  he 
was  bitter,  and  then  sat,  immitigable,  pouring 
out  wrath  and  terror,  denunciating,  tyrannical, 
speaking  as  to  something  that  lay  at  his  feet, 
but  which  he  would  not  spare.2  Then  suddenly, 
he  would  start,  look  round  the  dark  old  study, 
upward  to  the  dangling  spider  overhead,  and 
then  at  the  quiet  little  girl,  who,  try  as  she 
might,  could  not  keep  her  affrighted  looks  from 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

his  face,  and  always  met  his  eyes  with  a  loyal 
frankness  and  unyielded  faith  in  him. 

"  O,  you  little   jade,  what  have  you    been 
overhearing  ?  " 

"  Nothing,  Doctor  Grim,  —  nothing  that  I 
could  make  out." 

"  Make  out  as  much  as  you  can,"  he  said. 
"  I  am  not  afraid  of  you." 

"  Afraid  of  little  Elsie,  dear  Doctor  Grim  !  " 
"  Neither  of  you,  nor  of  the  Devil,"  mur 
mured  the  Doctor,  —  "  of  nobody  but  little 
Ned  and  that  milksop  Colcord.  If  I  have 
wronged  anybody  it  is  them.  As  for  the  rest, 
let  the  day  of  judgment  come.  Doctor  Grim 
is  ready  to  fling  down  his  burden  at  the  judg 
ment  seat  and  have  it  sorted  there." 

Then  he  would  lie  back  in  his  chair  and  look 
up  at  the  great  spider,  who  (or  else  it  was  El 
sie's  fancy)  seemed  to  be  making  great  haste  in 
those  days,  filling  out  his  web  as  if  he  had  less 
time  than  was  desirable  for  such  a  piece  of  work. 
One  morning  the  doctor  arose  as  usual,  and 
after  breakfast  (at  which  he  ate  nothing,  and 
even  after  filling  his  coffee-cup  half  with  brandy, 
half  with  coffee,  left  it  untouched,  save  sipping 
a  little  out  of  a  teaspoon)  he  went  to  the  study 
(with  a  rather  unsteady  gait,  chiefly  remarkable 
because  it  was  so  early  in  the  day),  and  there 
established  himself  with  his  pipe,  as  usual,  and 
his  medical  books  and  rnachines,  and  his  man- 
137 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

uscript.  But  he  seemed  troubled,  irresolute, 
weak,  and  at  last  he  blew  out  a  volley  of  oaths, 
with  no  apparent  appropriateness,  and  then 
seemed  to  be  communing  with  himself. 

"It  is  of  no  use  to  carry  this  on  any  fur 
ther,"  said  he  fiercely,  in  a  decided  tone,  as  if  he 
had  taken  a  resolution.  "  Elsie,  my  girl,  come 
and  kiss  me." 

So  Elsie  kissed  him,  amid  all  the  tobacco 
smoke  which  was  curling  out  of  his  mouth,  as 
if  there  were  a  half-extinguished  furnace  in  his 
inside. 

"  Elsie,  my  little  girl,  I  mean  to  die  to-day," 
said  the  old  man. 

"  To  die,  dear  Doctor  Grim  ?  O,  no  !  O, 
no!" 

"  O,  yes  !  Elsie,"  said  the  Doctor,  in  a  very 
positive  tone.  "  I  have  kept  myself  alive  by 
main  force  these  three  weeks,  and  I  find  it 
hardly  worth  the  trouble.  It  requires  so  much 
exercise  of  will ;  —  and  I  am  weary,  weary. 
The  pipe  does  not  taste  good,  the  brandy  be 
wilders  me.  Ned  is  gone,  too; — I  have  no 
thing  else  to  do.  I  have  wrought  this  many  a 
year  for  an  object,  and  now,  taking  all  things 
mto  consideration,  I  don't  know  whether  to  exe 
cute  it  or  no.  Ned  is  gone ;  there  is  nobody 
but  my  little  Elsie,  —  a  good  child,  but  not 
quite  enough  to  live  for.  I  will  let  myself  die, 
therefore,  before  sunse.t." 

138 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

"  O,  no  !  Doctor  Grim.  Let  us  send  foi 
Ned,  and  you  will  think  it  worth  the  trouble 
of  living." 

"  No,  Elsie,  I  want  no  one  near  my  death 
bed  ;  when  I  have  finished  a  little  business,  you 
must  go  out  of  the  room,  and  I  will  turn  my 
face  to  the  wall,  and  say  good-night.  But  first 
send  crusty  Hannah  for  Mr.  Pickering." 

He  was  a  lawyer  of  the  town,  a  man  of  clas 
sical  and  antiquarian  tastes,  as  well  as  legal  ac 
quirement,  and  some  of  whose  pursuits  had 
brought  him  and  Doctor  Grim  occasionally  to 
gether.  Besides  calling  this  gentleman,  crusty 
Hannah  (of  her  own  motion,  but  whether  out 
of  good-will  to  the  poor  Doctor  Grim,  or  from 
a  tendency  to  mischief  inherent  in  such  unnat 
ural  mixtures  as  hers)  summoned,  likewise,  in 
all  haste,  a  medical  man,  —  and,  as  it  happened, 
the  one  who  had  taken  a  most  decidedly  hostile 
part  to  our  Doctor, — and  a  clergyman,  who 
had  often  devoted  our  poor  friend  to  the  infer 
nal  regions,  almost  by  name,  in  his  sermons  ; 
a  kindness,  to  say  the  truth,  which  the  Doctor 
had  fully  reciprocated  in  many  anathemas  against 
the  clergyman.  These  two  worthies,  arriving 
simultaneously  and  in  great  haste,  were  forth 
with  ushered  to  where  the  Doctor  lay  half  re 
clining  in  his  study  ;  and  upon  showing  their 
heads,  the  Doctor  flew  into  an  awful  rage,  threat 
ening,  in  his  customary  improper  way  when  an- 
139 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

gry,  to  make  them  smell  the  infernal  regions, 
and  proceeding  to  put  his  threats  into  execution 
by  flinging  his  odorous  tobacco  pipe  in  the  face 
of  the  medical  man,  and  rebaptizing  the  clergy 
man  with  a  half-emptied  tumbler  of  brandy  and 
water,  and  sending  a  terrible  vociferation  of 
oaths  after  them  both,  as  they  clattered  hastily 
down  the  stairs.  Really,  that  crusty  Hannah 
must  have  been  the  Devil,  for  she  stood  grin 
ning  and  chuckling  at  the  foot  of  the  stairs, 
courtesying  grotesquely. 

"  He  terrible  man,  our  old  Doctor  Grim,'1 
quoth  crusty  Hannah.  "  He  drive  us  all  to  the 
wicked  place  before  him." 

This,  however,  was  the  final  outbreak  of 
poor  Doctor  Grim.  Indeed,  he  almost  went 
off  at  once  in  the  exhaustion  that  succeeded. 
The  lawyer  arrived  shortly  after,  and  was  shut 
up  with  him  for  a  considerable  space ;  after 
which  crusty  Hannah  was  summoned,  and  de 
sired  to  call  two  indifferent  persons  from  the 
street,  as  witnesses  to  a  will ;  and  this  document 
was  duly  executed,  and  given  into  the  posses 
sion  of  the  lawyer.  This  done,  and  the  lawyer 
having  taken  his  leave,  the  grim  Doctor  de 
sired,  and  indeed  commanded  imperatively,  that 
crusty  Hannah  should  quit  the  room,  having 
first  —  we  are  sorry  to  say  —  placed  the  brandy 
bottle  within  reach  of  his  hand,  and  leaving  him 
propped  up  in  his  armchair,  in  which  he  leaned 
140 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

back,  gazing  up  at  the  great  spider,  who  was 
dangling  overhead.  As  the  door  closed  behind 
crusty  Hannah's  grinning  and  yet  strangely  in 
terested  face,  the  Doctor  caught  a  glimpse  of 
Elsie  in  the  passage,  bathed  in  tears,  and  linger 
ing  and  looking  earnestly  into  the  chamber.3 

Seeing  the  poor  little  girl,  the  Doctor  cried 
out  to  her,  half  wrathfully,  half  tenderly,  "Don't 
cry,  you  little  wretch  !  Come  and  kiss  me  once 
more."  So  Elsie,  restraining  her  grief  with  a 
great  effort,  ran  tp  him  and  gave  him  a  last 
kiss. 

"  Tell  Ned,"  said  the  Doctor  solemnly,  "  to 
think  no  more  of  the  old  English  hall,  or  of 
the  bloody  footstep,  or  of  the  silver  key,  or  any 
of  all  that  nonsense.  Good-by,  my  dear !  " 
Then  he  said,  with  his  thunderous  and  impera 
tive  tone,  "  Let  no  one  come  near  me  till  to 
morrow  morning." 

So  that  parting  was  over ;  but  still  the  poor 
little  desolate  child  hovered  by  the  study  door 
all  day  long,  afraid  to  enter,  afraid  to  disobey, 
but  unable  to  go.  Sometimes  she  heard  the 
Doctor  muttering,  as  was  his  wont ;  once  she 
fancied  he  was  praying,  and  dropping  on  her 
knees  she  also  prayed  fervently,  and  perhaps 
acceptably  ;  then,  all  at  once,  the  Doctor  called 
out,  in  a  loud  voice,  "  No,  Ned,  no.  Drop  it, 
drop  it !  " 

And  then  there  was  an  utter  silence,  un- 
141 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

broken  forevermore  by  the  lips  that  had  uttered 
so  many  objectionable  things. 

And  finally,  after  an  interval  which  had  been 
prescribed  by  the  grim  Doctor,  a  messenger  was 
sent  by  the  lawyer  to  our  friend  Ned,  to  inform 
him  of  this  sad  event,  and  to  bring  him  back 
temporarily  to  town,  for  the  purpose  of  hearing 
what  were  his  prospects,  and  what  disposition 
was  now  to  be  made  of  him.  We  shall  not  at 
tempt  to  describe  the  grief,  astonishment,  and 
almost  incredulity  of  Ned,  cyi  discovering  that 
a  person  so  mixed  up  with  and  built  into  his 
whole  life  as  the  stalwart  Doctor  Grimshawe 
had  vanished  out  of  it  thus  unexpectedly,  like 
something  thin  as  a  vapor,  —  like  a  red  flame, 
that  one  [instant]  is  very  bright  in  its  lurid  ray, 
and  then  is  nothing  at  all,  amid  the  darkness. 
To  the  poor  boy's  still  further  grief  and  aston 
ishment,  he  found,  on  reaching  the  spot  that  he 
called  home,  that  little  Elsie  (as  the  lawyer  gave 
him  to  understand,  by  the  express  orders  of 
the  Doctor,  and  for  reasons  of  great  weight)  had 
been  conveyed  away  by  a  person  under  whose 
guardianship  she  was  placed,  and  that  Ned  could 
not  be  informed  of  the  place.  Even  crusty 
Hannah  had  been  provided  for  and  disposed  of, 
and  was  no  longer  to  be  found.  Mr.  Pickering 
explained  to  Ned  the  dispositions  in  his  favor 
which  had  been  made  by  his  deceased  friend, 
who,  out  of  a  moderate  property,  had  left  him 
142 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

the  means  of  obtaining  as  complete  an  education 
as  the  country  would  afford,  and  of  supporting 
himself  until  his  own  exertions  would  be  likely 
to  give  him  the  success  which  his  abilities  were 
calculated  to  win.  The  remainder  of  his  pro 
perty  (a  less  sum  than  that  thus  disposed  of) 
was  given  to  little  Elsie,  with  the  exception  of  a 
small  provision  to  crusty  Hannah,  with  the  re 
commendation  from  the  Doctor  that  she  should 
retire  and  spend  the  remainder  of  her  life  among 
her  own  people.  There  was  likewise  a  certain 
sum  left  for  the  purpose  of  editing  and  print 
ing  (with  a  dedication  to  the  Medical  Society  of 
the  State)  an  account  of  the  process  of  distilling 
balm  from  cobwebs  ;  the  bequest  being  worded 
in  so  singular  a  way  that  it  was  just  as  impossi 
ble  as  it  had  ever  been  to  discover  whether  the 
grim  Doctor  was  in  earnest  or  no. 

What  disappointed  the  boy,  in  a  greater  de 
gree  than  we  shall  try  to  express,  was  the  lack 
of  anything  in  reference  to  those  dreams  and 
castles  of  the  air,  —  any  explanation  of  his  birth; 
so  that  he  was  left  with  no  trace  of  it,  except 
just  so  far  as  the  almshouse  whence  the  Doctor 
had  taken  him.  There  all  traces  of  his  name 
and  descent  vanished,  just  as  if  he  had  been 
made  up  of  the  air,  as  an  aerolite  seems  to  be 
before  it  tumbles  on  the  earth  with  its  mysteri 
ous  iron. 

The  poor  boy   in  his  bewilderment,  had  not 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

yet  come  to  feel  what  his  grief  was  ;  it  was  not 
to  be  conceived,  in  a  few  days,  that  he  was  de 
prived  of  every  person,  thing,  or  thought  that 
had  hitherto  kept  his  heart  warm.  He  tried 
to  make  himself  feel  it,  yearning  for  this  grief 
as  for  his  sole  friend.  Being,  for  the  present, 
domiciled  with  the  lawyer,  he  obtained  the  key 
of  his  former  home,  and  went  through  the  deso 
late  house  that  he  knew  so  well,  and  which  now 
had  such  a  silent,  cold,  familiar  strangeness,  with 
none  in  it,  though  the  ghosts  of  the  grim  Doc 
tor,  of  laughing  little  Elsie,  of  crusty  Hannah, 
—  dead  and  alive  alike,  —  were  all  there,  and 
his  own  ghost  among  them ;  for  he  himself  was 
dead,  that  is,  his  former  self,  which  he  recog 
nized  as  himself,  had  passed  away,  as  they  were. 
In  the  study  everything  looked  as  formerly, 
yet  with  a  sort  of  unreality,  as  if  it  would  dis 
solve  and  vanish  on  being  touched  ;  and,  in 
deed,-  it  partly  proved  so  ;  for  over  the  Doctor's 
chair  seemed  still  to  hang  the  great  spider,  but 
on  looking  closer  at  it,  and  finally  touching  it 
with  the  end  of  the  Doctor's  stick,  Ned  discov 
ered  that  it  was  merely  the  skin,  shell,  appari 
tion,  of  the  real  spider,4  the  reality  of  whom,  it 
is  to  be  supposed,  had  followed  the  grim  Doc 
tor,  whithersoever  he  had  gone. 

A  thought  struck  Ned  while  he  was  here ;  he 
remembered  the  secret  niche  in  the  wall,  where 
he  had  once  seen  the  Doctor  deposit  some  pa- 
144 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

pers.  He  looked,  and  there  they  were.  Who 
was  the  heir  of  those  papers,  if  not  he  ?  If  there 
were  anything  wrong  in  appropriating  them,  it 
was  not  perceptible  to  him  in  the  desolation, 
anxiety,  bewilderment,  and  despair  of  that  mo 
ment.  He  grasped  the  papers,  and  hurried 
from  the  room  and  down  the  stairs,  afraid  to 
look  round,  and  half  expecting  to  hear  the  gruff 
voice  of  Doctor  Grim  thundering  after  him  to 
bring  them  back. 

Then  Ned  went  out  of  the  back  door,  and 
found  his  way  to  the  Doctor's  new  grave,  which, 
as  it  happened,  was  dug  close  beside  that  one 
which  occupied  the  place  of  the  one  which  the 
stranger  had  come  to  seek  ;  and,  as  if  to  spite 
the  Doctor's  professional  antipathies,  it  lay  be 
side  a  grave  of  an  old  physician  and  surgeon, 
one  Doctor  Summerton,  who  used  to  help  dis 
eases  and  kill  patients  above  a  hundred  years 
ago.  But  Doctor  Grim  was  undisturbed  by 
these  neighbors,  and  apparently  not  more  by 
the  grief  of  poor  little  Ned,  who  hid  his  face  in 
the  crumbly  earth  of  the  grave,  and  the  sods 
that  had  not  begun  to  grow,  and  wept  as  if  his 
heart  would  break. 

But  the  heart  never  breaks  on  the  first  grave  ; 
and,  after  many  graves,  it  gets  so  obtuse  that 
nothing  can  break  it. 

And  now  let  the  mists  settle  down  over  the 
trail  of  our  story,  hiding  it  utterly  on  its  on- 
H5 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

ward  course,  for  a  long  way  to  come,  until,  after 
many  years,  they  may  disperse  and  discover 
something  which,  were  it  worth  while  to  follow 
it  through  all  that  obscurity,  would  prove  to  be 
the  very  same  track  which  that  boy  was  tread 
ing  when  we  last  saw  him,  —  though  it  may 
have  lain  over  land  and  sea  since  then  ;  but  the 
footsteps  that  trod  there  are  treading  here. 
146 


CHAPTER  XI 

THERE  is —  or  there  was,  now  many 
years  ago,  and  a  few  years  also  it  was 
still  extant  —  a  chamber,  which  when 
I  think  of,  it  seems  to  me  like  entering  a  deep 
recess  of  my  own  consciousness,  a  deep  cave  of 
my  nature  ;  so  much  have  I  thought  of  it  and 
its  inmate,  through  a  considerable  period  of  my 
life.  After  I  had  seen  it  long  in  fancy,  then  I 
saw  it  in  reality,  with  my  waking  eyes  ;  and 
questioned  with  myself  whether  I  was  really 
awake. 

Not  that  it  was  a  picturesque  or  stately  cham 
ber;  not  in  the  least.  It  was  dim,  dim  as  a 
melancholy  mood ;  so  dim,  to  come  to  particu 
lars,  that,  till  you  were  accustomed  to  that  twi 
light  medium,  the  print  of  a  book  looked  all 
blurred  ;  a  pin  was  an  indistinguishable  object ; 
the  face  of  your  familiar  friend,  or  your  dearest 
beloved  one,  would  be  unrecognizable  across 
it,  and  the  figures,  so  warm  and  radiant  with 
life  and  heart,  would  seem  like  the  faint  gray 
shadows  of  our  thoughts,  brooding  in  age  over 
youthful  images  of  joy  and  love.  Nevertheless, 
the  chamber,  though  so  difficult  to  see  across, 
was  small.  You  detected  that  it  was  within  very 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWES  SECRET 

narrow  boundaries,  though  you  could  not  pre 
cisely  see  them  ;  only  you  felt  yourself  shut 
in,  compressed,  impeded,  in  the  deep  centre  of 
something;  and  you  longed  for  a  breath  of 
fresh  air.  Some  articles  of  furniture  there 
seemed  to  be  ;  but  in  this  dim  medium,  to 
which  we  are  unaccustomed,  it  is  not  well  to  try 
to  make  out  what  they  were,  or  anything  else 
—  now  at  least  —  about  the  chamber.  Only 
one  thing  :  small  as  the  light  was,  it  was  rather 
wonderful  how  there  came  to  be  any  ;  for  no 
windows  were  apparent,  no  communication  with 
the  outward  day.1 

Looking  into  this  chamber,  in  fancy  it  is  some 
time  before  we  who  come  out  of  the  broad  sunny 
daylight  of  the  world  discover  that  it  has  an  in 
mate.  Yes,  there  is  some  one  within,  but  where  ? 
We  know  it,  but  do  not  precisely  see  him  ;  only 
a  presence  is  impressed  upon  us.  It  is  in  that 
corner  ;  no,  not  there  ;  only  a  heap  of  darkness 
and  an  old  antique  coffer,  that,  as  we  look  closely 
at  it,  seems  to  be  made  of  carved  wood.  Ah  ! 
he  is  in  that  other  dim  corner  ;  and  now  that  we 
steal  close  to  him,  we  see  him  ;  a  young  man, 
pale,  flung  upon  a  sort  of  mattress  couch.  He 
seems  in  alarm  at  something  or  other.  He 
trembles  ;  he  listens,  as  if  for  voices.  It  must 
be  a  great  peril,  indeed,  that  can  haunt  him  thus 
and  make  him  feel  afraid  in  such  a  seclusion  as 
you  feel  this  to  be  ;  but  there  he  is,  tremulous, 
148 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

and  so  pale  that  really  his  face  is  almost  visible 
in  the  gloomy  twilight.  How  came  he  here  ? 
Who  is  he?  What  does  he  tremble  at?  In 
this  duskiness  we  cannot  tell.  Only  that  he  is 
a  young  man,  in  a  state  of  nervous  excitement 
and  alarm,  looking  about  him,  starting  to  his 
feet,  sometimes  standing  and  staring  about  him. 

Has  he  been  living  here?  Apparently  not; 
for  see,  he  has  a  pair  of  long  riding  boots  on, 
coming  up  to  the  knees  ;  they  are  splashed  with 
mud,  as  if  he  had  ridden  hastily  through  foul 
ways ;  the  spurs  are  on  the  heel.  A  riding 
dress  upon  him.  Ha !  is  that  blood  upon  the 
hand  which  he  clasps  to  his  forehead  ? 

What  more  do  you  perceive  ?  Nothing,  the 
light  is  so  dim ;  but  only  we  wonder  where  is 
the  door,  and  whence  the  light  comes.  There 
is  a  strange  abundance  of  spiders,  too,  we  per 
ceive ;  spinning  their  webs  here,  as  if  they  would 
entrammel  something  in  them.  A  mouse  has 
run  across  the  floor,  apparently,  but  it  is  too 
dim  to  detect  him,  or  to  detect  anything  beyond 
the  limits  of  a  very  doubtful  vagueness.  We 
do  not  even  know  whether  what  we  seem  to  have 
seen  is  really  so  ;  whether  the  man  is  young,  or 
old,  or  what  his  surroundings  are  ;  and  there 
is  something  so  disagreeable  in  this  seclusion, 
this  stifled  atmosphere,  that  we  should  be  loath 
to  remain  here  long  enough  to  make  ourselves 
certain  of  what  was  a  mystery.  Let  us  forth 
149 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

into  the  broad,  genial  daylight,  for  there  is 
magic,  there  is  a  devilish,  subtile  influence,  in 
this  chamber ;  which,  I  have  reason  to  believe, 
makes  it  dangerous  to  remain  here.  There  is  a 
spell  on  the  threshold.  Heaven  keep  us  safe 
from  it ! 

Hark  !  has  a  door  unclosed  ?  Is  there  another 
human  being  in  the  room  ?  We  have  now  be 
come  so  accustomed  to  the  dim  medium  that 
we  distinguish  a  man  of  mean  exterior,  with  a 
look  of  habitual  subservience  that  seems  like 
that  of  an  English  serving  man,  or  a  person  in 
some  menial  situation  ;  decent,  quiet,  neat,  softly 
behaved,  but  yet  with  a  certain  hard  and  ques 
tionable  presence,  which  we  would  not  well  like 
to  have  near  us  in  the  room. 

"Am  I  safe?"  asks  the  inmate  of  the  prison 
chamber. 

"  Sir,  there  has  been  a  search." 

"  Leave  the  pistols/'  said  the  voice. 

Again,2  after  this  time,  a  long  time  extending 
to  years,  let  us  look  back  into  that  dim  chamber, 
wherever  in  the  world  it  was,  into  which  we  had 
a  glimpse,  and  where  we  saw  apparently  a  fugi 
tive.  How  looks  it  now?  Still  dim,  —  per 
haps  as  dim  as  ever,  —  but  our  eyes,  or  our 
imagination,  have  gained  an  acquaintance,  a  cus- 
tomariness,  with  the  medium  ;  so  that  we  can 
discern  things  now  a  little  more  distinctly  than 
of  old.  Possibly,  there  may  have  been  some- 
ISO 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

thing  cleared  away  that  obstructed  the  light ;  at 
any  rate,  we  see  now  the  whereabouts  —  better 
than  we  did.  It  is  an  oblong  room,  lofty  but 
narrow,  and  some  ten  paces  in  length  ;  its  floor 
is  heavily  carpeted,  so  that  the  tread  makes  no 
sound ;  it  is  hung  with  old  tapestry,  or  carpet, 
wrought  with  the  hand  long  ago,  and  still  retain 
ing  much  of  the  ancient  colors,  where  there  was 
no  sunshine  to  fade  them ;  worked  on  them  is 
some  tapestried  story,  done  by  Catholic  hands, 
of  saints  or  devils,  looking  each  equally  grave 
and  solemn.  The  light,  whence  comes  it  ? 
There  is  no  window  ;  but  it  seems  to  come 
through  a  stone,  or  something  like  it,  —  a  dull 
gray  medium,  that  makes  noonday  look  like 
evening  twilight.  Though  sometimes  there  is 
an  effect  as  if  something  were  striving  to  melt 
itself  through  this  dull  medium,  and  —  never 
making  a  shadow  —  yet  to  produce  the  effect  of 
a  cloud  gathering  thickly  over  the  sun.  There 
is  a  chimney  ;  yes,  a  little  grate  in  which  burns 
a  coal  fire,  a  dim  smouldering  fire  ;  it  might  be 
an  illumination,  if  that  were  desirable. 

What  is  the  furniture  ?  An  antique  chair, 
—  one  chair,  no  more.  A  table,  many-footed, 
of  dark  wood  ;  it  holds  writing  materials,  a  book, 
too,  on  its  face,  with  the  dust  gathered  on  its 
back.  There  is,  moreover,  a  sort  of  antique  box, 
or  coffer,  of  some  dark  wood,  that  seems  to  have 
been  wrought  or  carved  with  skill,  wondrous 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

skill,  of  some  period  when  the  art  of  carving 
wainscot  with  arms  and  devices  was  much  prac 
tised;  so  that  on  this  coffer,  —  some  six  feet 
long  it  is,  and  two  or  three  broad,  —  most  richly 
wrought,  you  see  faces  in  relief  of  knight  and 
dame,  lords,  heraldic  animals  ;  some  story,  very 
likely,  told,  almost  revelling  in  Gothic  sculpture 
of  wood,  like  what  we  have  seen  on  the  marble 
sarcophagus  of  the  old  Greeks.  It  has,  too,  a 
lock,  elaborately  ornamented  and  inlaid  with 
silver. 

What  else  ?  Only  the  spider's  webs  spinning 
strangely  over  everything  ;  over  that  light  which 
comes  into  the  room  through  the  stone  ;  over 
everything.  And  now  we  see,  in  a  corner,  a 
strange  great  spider  curiously  variegated.  The 
ugly,  terrible,  seemingly  poisonous  thing  makes 
us  shudder.3 

What  else  ?  There  are  pistols  ;  they  lie  on 
the  coffer  !  There  is  a  curiously  shaped  Italian 
dagger,  of  the  kind  which  in  a  groove  has  poi 
son  that  makes  its  wound  mortal.  On  the  old 
mantelpiece,  over  the  fireplace,  there  is  a  vial 
in  which  are  kept  certain  poisons.  It  would 
seem  as  if  some  one  had  meditated  suicide  ;  or 
else  that  the  foul  fiend  had  put  all  sorts  of  im 
plements  of  self-destruction  in  his  way  ;  so  that, 
in  some  frenzied  moment,  he  might  kill  him 
self. 

But  the  inmate  !  There  he  is ;  but  the  fren- 
152 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

zied  alarm  in  which  we  last  saw  him  seems  to 
ftave  changed  its  character.  No  throb,  now ; 
no  passion  ;  no  frenzy  of  fear  or  despair.  He 
sits  dull  and  motionless.  See  ;  his  cheek  is 
very  pale;  his  hair  long  and  dishevelled.  His 
beard  has  grown,  and  curls  round  his  face.  He 
has  on  a  sleeping  gown,  a  long  robe  as  of  one 
who  abides  within  doors,  and  has  nothing  to  do 
with  outward  elements  ;  a  pair  of  slippers.  A 
dull,  dreamy  reverie  seems  to  have  possessed 
him.  Hark  !  there  is  again  a  stealthy  step  on 
the  floor,  and  the  serving  man  is  here  again. 
There  is  a  peering,  anxious  curiosity  in  his  face, 
as  he  struts  towards  him,  a  sort  of  enjoyment, 
one  would  say,  in  the  way  in  which  he  looks  at 
the  strange  case. 

"  I  am  here,  you  know,"  he  says,  at  length, 
after  feasting  his  eyes  for  some  time  on  the 
spectacle. 

"  I  hear  you  !  "  says  the  young  man,  in  a 
dull,  indifferent  tone. 

"  Will  not  your  honor  walk  out  to-day  ?  " 
says  the  man.  "  It  is  long  now  since  your 
honor  has  taken  the  air." 

"  Very  long,"  says  the  master,  "  but  I  will 
not  go  out  to-day.  What  weather  is  it  ?  " 

"  Sunny,   bright,   a  summer  day,"  says  the 
man.     "  But  you  would  never  know  it  in  these 
damp  walls.     The  last  winter's  chill  is  here  yet. 
Had  riot  your  honor  better  go  forth  ? " 
153 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

It  might  seem  that  there  was  a  sort  of  sneer, 
deeply  hidden  under  respect  and  obeisance,  in 
the  man's  words  and  craftily  respectful  tone  ; 
deeply  hidden,  but  conveying  a  more  subtile 
power  on  that  account.  At  all  events,  the  mas 
ter  seemed  aroused  from  his  state  of  dull  indif 
ference,  and  writhed  as  with  poignant  anguish 
—  an  infused  poison  in  his  veins  —  as  the  man 
spoke. 

"  Have  you  procured  me  that  new  drug  I 
spoke  of?"  asked  the  master. 

"  Here  it  is,"  said  the  man,  putting  a  small 
package  on  the  table. 

"  Is  it  effectual  ?  " 

"  So  said  the  apothecary,"  answered  the  man  ; 
"  and  I  tried  it  on  a  dog.  He  sat  quietly  a 
quarter  of  an  hour ;  then  had  a  spasm  or  two, 
and  was  dead.  But,  your  honor,  the  dead  car 
cass  swelled  horribly." 

"  Hush,  villain!  Have  there  —  have  there 
been  inquiries  for  me,  —  mention  of  me  ?  " 

"  O,  none,  sir, —  none,  sir.  Affairs  go  on 
bravely,  —  the  new  live.  The  world  fills  up. 
The  gap  is  not  vacant.  There  is  no  mention 
of  you.  Marry,  at  the  alehouse  I  heard  some 
idle  topers  talking  of  a  murder  that  took  place 
some  few  years  since,  and  saying  that  Heaven's 
vengeance  would  come  for  it  yet." 

"  Silence,  villain,  there  is  no  such  thing,"  said 
the  young  man ;  and,  with  a  laugh  that  seemed 
154 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

like  scorn,  he  relapsed  into  his  state  of  sullen  in 
difference  ;  during  which  the  servant  stole  away, 
after  looking  at  him  some  time,  as  if  to  take  all 
possible  note  of  his  aspect.  The  man  did  not 
seem  so  much  to  enjoy  it  himself,  as  he  did  to 
do  these  things  in  a  kind  of  formal  and  matter- 
of-course  way,  as  if  he  were  performing  a  set 
duty  ;  as  if  he  were  a  subordinate  fiend,  and 
were  doing  the  duty  of  a  superior  one,  without 
any  individual  malice  of  his  own,  though  a  gen 
eral  satisfaction  in  doing  what  would  accrue  to 
the  agglomeration  of  deadly  mischief.  He  stole 
away,  and  the  master  was  left  to  himself. 

By  and  by,  by  what  impulse  or  cause  it  is 
impossible  to  say,  he  started  upon  his  feet  in  a 
sudden  frenzy  of  rage  and  despair.  It  seemed 
as  if  a  consciousness  of  some  strange,  wild,  mis 
erable  fate  that  had  befallen  him  had  come  upon 
him  all  at  once  ;  how  that  he  was  a  prisoner  to 
a  devilish  influence,  to  some  wizard  might,  that 
bound  him  hand  and  foot  with  spider's  web. 
So  he  stamped  ;  so  he  half  shrieked,  yet  stopped 
himself  in  the  midst,  so  that  his  cry  was  stifled 
and  smothered.  Then  he  snatched  up  the  poi 
soned  dagger  and  looked  at  it ;  the  noose,  and 
put  it  about  his  neck, —  evil  instrument  of 
death,  —  but  laid  it  down  again.  And  then  was 
a  voice  at  the  door :  "  Quietly,  quietly  you  know, 
or  they  will  hear  you."  And  at  that  voice  he 
sank  into  sullen  indifference  again. 


CHAPTER  XII 

A  TRAVELLER  with  a  knapsack  on  his 
shoulders  comes  out  of  the  duskiness 
of  vague,  unchronicled  times,  throwing 
his  shadow  before  him  in  the  morning  sunshine 
along  a  well-trodden,  though  solitary  path. 

It  was  early  summer,  or  perhaps  latter  spring, 
and  the  most  genial  weather  that  either  spring 
or  summer  ever  brought,  possessing  a  charac 
ter,  indeed,  as  if  both  seasons  had  done  their 
utmost1  to  create  an  atmosphere  and  tempera 
ture  most  suitable  for  the  enjoyment  and  exer 
cise  of  life.  To  one  accustomed  to  a  climate 
where  there  is  seldom  a  medium  between  heat 
too  fierce  and  cold  too  deadly,  it  was  a  new  de 
velopment  in  the  nature  of  weather.  So  genial 
it  was,  so  full  of  all  comfortable  influences,  and 
yet,  somehow  or  other,  void  of  the  torrid  char 
acteristic  that  inevitably  burns  in  our  full  sun 
bursts.  The  traveller  thought,  in  fact,  that  the 
sun  was  at  less  than  his  brightest  glow ;  for 
though  it  was  bright,  —  though  the  day  seemed 
cloudless,  —  though  it  appeared  to  be  the  clear, 
transparent  morning  that  precedes  an  unshad 
owed  noon,  —  still  there  was  a  mild  and  sof 
tened  character,  not  so  perceptible  when  he  di- 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

rectly  sought  to  see  it,  but  as  if  some  veil  were 
interposed  between  the  earth  and  sun,  absorbing 
all  the  passionate  qualities  out  of  the  latter,  and 
leaving  only  the  kindly  ones.  Warmth  was  in 
abundance,  and  yet,  all  through  it,  and  strangely 
akin  to  it,  there  was  a  half-suspected  coolness 
that  gave  the  atmosphere  its  most  thrilling  and 
delicious  charm.  It  was  good  for  human  life, 
as  the  traveller  felt  throughout  all  his  being ; 
good,  likewise,  for  vegetable  life,  as  was  seen  in 
the  depth  and  richness  of  verdure  over  the  gen 
tly  undulating  landscape,  and  the  luxuriance  of 
foliage,  wherever  there  was  tree  or  shrub  to  put 
forth  leaves. 

The  path  along  which  the  traveller  was  pass 
ing  deserved  at  least  a  word  or  two  of  descrip 
tion  :  it  was  a  well-trodden  footpath,  running 
just  here  along  the  edge  of  a  field  of  grass,  and 
bordered  on  one  side  by  a  hedge  which  con 
tained  materials  within  itself  for  varied  and 
minute  researches  in  natural  history ;  so  richly 
luxuriant  was  it  with  its  diverse  vegetable  life, 
such  a  green  intricacy  did  it  form,  so  impenetra 
ble  and  so  beautiful,  and  such  a  Paradise  it  was 
for  the  birds  that  built  their  nests  there  in  a 
labyrinth  of  little  boughs  and  twigs,  unseen  and 
inaccessible,  while  close  beside  the  human  race 
to  which  they  attach  themselves,  that  they  must 
have  felt  themselves  as  safe  as  when  they  sung 
to  Eve.  Homely  flowers  likewise  grew  <n  it, 
157 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

and  many  creeping  and  twining  plants,  that  were 
an  original  part  of  the  hedge,  had  come  of  their 
own  accord  and  dwelt  here,  beautifying  and  en 
riching  the  verdant  fence  by  way  of  repayment 
for  the  shelter  and  support  which  it  afforded 
them.  At  intervals,  trees  of  vast  trunk  and 
mighty  spread  of  foliage,  whether  elms  or  oaks, 
grew  in  the  line  of  the  hedge,  and  the  bark  of 
those  gigantic,  age-long  patriarchs  was  not  gray 
and  naked,  like  the  trees  which  the  traveller  had 
been  accustomed  to  see,  but  verdant  with  mosSj 
or  in  many  cases  richly  enwreathed  with  a  net 
work  of  creeping  plants,  and  oftenest  the  ivy  of 
old  growth,  clambering  upward,  and  making  its 
own  twisted  stem  almost  of  one  substance  with 
the  supporting  tree.  On  one  venerable  oak 
there  was  a  plant  of  mystic  leaf,  which  the  trav 
eller  knew  by  instinct,  and  plucked  a  bough  of 
it  with  a  certain  reverence  for  the  sake  of  the 
Druids  and  Christmas  kisses  and  of  the  pasty 
in  which  it  was  rooted  from  of  old. 

The  path  in  which  he  walked,  rustic  as  it  was 
and  made  merely  by  the  feet  that  pressed  it 
down,  was  one  of  the  ancientest  of  ways  ;  older 
than  the  oak  that  bore  the  mistletoe,  older  than 
the  villages  between  which  it  passed,  older  per 
haps  than  the  common  road  which  the  traveller 
had  crossed  that  morning  ;  old  as  the  times 
when  people  first  debarred  themselves  from  wan 
dering  freely  and  widely  wherever  a  vagrant  im- 
158 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

pulse  led  them.  The  footpath,  therefore,  still 
retains  some  of  the  characteristics  of  a  woodland 
walk,  taken  at  random,  by  a  lover  of  nature  not 
pressed  for  time  nor  restrained  by  artificial  bar 
riers  ;  it  sweeps  and  lingers  along,  and  finds 
pretty  little  dells  and  nooks  of  delightful  scen 
ery,  and  picturesque  glimpses  of  halls  or  cot 
tages,  in  the  same  neighborhood  where  a  high 
road  would  disclose  only  a  tiresome  blank., 
They  run  into  one  another  for  miles  and  miles 
together,  and  traverse  rigidly  guarded  parks  and 
domains,  not  as  a  matter  of  favor,  but  as  a  right  ; 
so  that  the  poorest  man  thus  retains  a  kind  of 
property  and  privilege  in  the  oldest  inheritance 
of  the  richest.  The  highroad  sees  only  the 
outside  ;  the  footpath  leads  down  into  the  heart 
of  the  country. 

A  pleasant  feature  of  the  footpath  was  the 
stile,  between  two  fields ;  no  frail  and  tempo 
rary  structure,  but  betokening  the  permanence 
of  this  rustic  way  ;  the  ancient  solidity  of  the 
stone  steps,  worn  into  cavities  by  the  hobnailed 
shoes  that  had  pressed  upon  them  :  here  not 
only  the  climbing  foot  had  passed  for  ages,  but 
here  had  sat  the  maiden  with  her  milk  pail,  the 
rustic  on  his  way  afield  or  homeward  ;  here  had 
been  lover  meetings,  cheerful  chance  chats,  song 
as  natural  as  bird  note,  a  thousand  pretty  scenes 
of  rustic  manners. 

It  was  curious  to  see  the  traveller  pause,  to 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

contemplate  so  simple  a  thing  as  this  old  stile 
of  a  few  stone  steps  ;  antique  as  an  old  castle ; 
simple  and  rustic  as  the  gap  in  a  rail  fence  ;  and 
while  he  sat  on  one  of  the  steps,  making  him 
self  pleasantly  sensible  of  his  whereabout,  like 
one  who  should  handle  a  dream  and  find  it  tan 
gible  and  real,  he  heard  a  sound  that  bewitched 
him  with  still  another  dreamy  delight.  A  bird 
rose  out  of  the  grassy  field,  and,  still  soaring 
aloft,  made  a  cheery  melody  that  was  like  a  spire 
of  audible  flame,  —  rapturous  music,  as  if  the 
whole  soul  and  substance  of  the  winged  creature 
had  been  distilled  into  this  melody,  as  it  van 
ished  skyward. 

"  The  lark  !  the  lark  !  "  exclaimed  the  trav 
eller,  recognizing  the  note  (though  never  heard 
before)  as  if  his  childhood  had  known  it. 

A  moment  afterwards  another  bird  was  heard 
in  the  shadow  of  a  neighboring  wood,  or  some 
other  inscrutable  hiding  place,  singing  softly  in 
«  a  flutelike  note,  as  if  blown  through  an  instru 
ment  of  wood,  —  "  Cuckoo  !  Cuckoo  !  "  —  only 
twice,  and  then  a  stillness. 

"  How  familiar  these  rustic  sounds  !  "  he  ex 
claimed.  "  Surely  I  was  born  here  !  " 

The  person  who  thus  enjoyed  these  sounds, 
as  if  they  were  at  once  familiar  and  strange,  was 
a  young  man,  tall  and  rather  slenderly  built ; 
and  though  we  have  called  him  young,  there 
were  the  traces  of  thought,  struggle,  and  even 
160 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

of  experience  in  his  marked  brow  and  somewhat 
pale  face ;  but  the  spirit  within  him  was  evi 
dently  still  that  of  a  youth,  lithe  and  active,  gaz 
ing  out  of  his  dark  eyes  and  taking  note  of 
things  about  him,  with  an  eager,  centring  inter 
est,  that  seemed  to  be  unusually  awake  at  the 
present  moment. 

It  could  be  but  a  few  years  since  he  first  called 
himself  a  man  ;  but  they  must  have  been  thickly 
studded  with  events,  turbulent  with  action,  spent 
amidst  circumstances  that  called  for  resources  of 
energy  not  often  so  early  developed ;  and  thus 
his  youth  might  have  been  kept  in  abeyance 
until  now,  when  in  this  simple  rural  scene  he 
grew  almost  a  boy  again.  As  for  his  station  in 
life,  his  coarse  gray  suit  and  the  knapsack  on 
his  shoulders  did  not  indicate  a  very  high  one ; 
yet  it  was  such  as  a  gentleman  might  wear  of  a 
morning,  or  on  a  pedestrian  ramble,  and  was 
worn  in  a  way  that  made  it  seem  of  a  better 
fashion  than  it  really  was,  as  it  enabled  him  to 
find  a  rare  enjoyment,  as  we  have  seen,  in  by 
path,  hedge  row,  rustic  stile,  lark,  and  cuckoo, 
and  even  the  familiar  grass  and  clover  blossom. 
It  was  as  if  he  had  long  been  shut  in  a  sick- 
chamber  or  a  prison  ;  or,  at  least,  within  the 
iron  cage  of  busy  life,  that  had  given  him  but 
few  glimpses  of  natural  things  through  its  bars  ; 
or  else  this  was  another  kind  of  nature  than  he 
had  heretofore  known. 

161 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

As  he  walked  along  (through  a  kind  of  dream, 
though  he  seemed  so  sensibly  observant  of  tri 
fling  things  around  him),  he  failed  to  notice  that 
the  path  grew  somewhat  less  distinctly  marked, 
more  infringed  upon  by  grass,  more  shut  in  by 
shrubbery  ;  he  had  deviated  into  a  side  track, 
and,  in  fact,  a  certain  printed  board  nailed  against 
a  tree  had  escaped  his  notice,  warning  off  intrud 
ers  with  inhospitable  threats  of  prosecution.  He 
began  to  suspect  that  he  must  have  gone  astray 
when  the  path  led  over  plashy  ground  with  a 
still  fainter  trail  of  preceding  footsteps,  and 
plunged  into  shrubbery,  and  seemed  on  the 
point  of  deserting  him  altogether,  after  having 
beguiled  him  thus  far.  The  spot  was  an  entan 
glement  of  boughs,  and  yet  did  not  give  one  the 
impression  of  wildness ;  for  it  was  the  stranger's 
idea  that  everything  in  this  long-cultivated  re 
gion  had  been  touched  and  influenced  by  man's 
care,  every  oak,  every  bush,  every  sod,  —  that 
man  knew  them  all,  and  that  they  knew  him, 
and  by  that  mutual  knowledge  had  become  far 
other  than  they  were  in  the  first  freedom  of 
growth,  such  as  may  be  found  in  an  American 
forest.  Nay,  the  wildest  denizens  of  this  sylvan 
neighborhood  were  removed  in  the  same  degree 
from  their  primeval  character ;  for  hares  sat  on 
their  hind  legs  to  gaze  at  the  approaching  trav 
eller,  and  hardly  thought  it  worth  their  while  to 
leap  away  among  some  ferns,  as  he  drew  near ; 
162 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

two  pheasants  looked  at  him  from  a  bough,  a  lit 
tle  inward  among  the  shrubbery ;  and,  to  com- 
plete  the  wonder,  he  became  aware  of  the  antlers 
and  brown  muzzle  of  a  deer  protruding  among 
the  boughs,  and  though  immediately  there  en 
sued  a  great  rush  and  rustling  of  the  herd,  it 
seemed  evidently  to  come  from  a  certain  linger 
ing  shyness,  an  instinct  that  had  lost  its  purpose 
and  object,  and  only  mimicked  a  dread  of  man, 
whose  neighborhood  and  familiarity  had  tamed 
the  wild  deer  almost  into  a  domestic  creature. 
Remembering  his  experience  of  true  woodland 
life,  the  traveller  fancied  that  it  might  be  possi 
ble  to  want  freer  air,  less  often  used  for  human 
breath,  than  was  to  be  found  anywhere  among 
these  woods. 

But  then  the  sweet,  calm  sense  of  safety  that 
was  here !  the  certainty  that  with  the  wild  ele 
ment  that  centuries  ago  had  passed  out  of  this 
scene  had  gone  all  the  perils  of  wild  men  and 
savage  beasts,  dwarfs,  witches,  leaving  nature, 
not  effete,  but  only  disarmed- of  those  rougher, 
deadlier  characteristics,  that  cruel  rawness,  which 
make  primeval  Nature  the  deadly  enemy  even 
of  her  own  children.  Here  was  consolation, 
doubtless  ;  so  we  sit  down  on  the  stone  step  of 
the  last  stile  that  he  had  crossed,  and  listen  to 
the  footsteps  of  the  traveller,  and  the  distant  rus 
tle  among  the  shrubbery,  as  he  goes  deeper  and 
deeper  into  the  seclusion,  having  by  this  time 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

lost  the  deceitful  track.  No  matter  if  he  go 
astray  ;  even  were  it  after  nightfall  instead  of 
noontime,  a  will-o'-the-wisp,  or  Puck  himself, 
would  not  lead  him  into  worse  harm  than  to  de 
lude  him  into  some  mossy  pool,  the  depths  of 
which  the  truant  schoolboys  had  known  for  ages. 
Nevertheless,  some  little  time  after  his  disap 
pearance,  there  was  the  report  of  a  shot  that 
echoed  sharp  and  loud,  startling  the  pheasants 
from  their  boughs,  and  sending  the  hares  and 
deer  a-scampering  in  good  earnest. 

We  next  find  our  friend,  from  whom  we  parted 
on  the  footpath,  in  a  situation  of  which  he  then 
was  but  very  imperfectly  aware ;  for,  indeed,  he 
had  been  in  a  state  of  unconsciousness,  lasting 
until  it  was  now  late  towards  the  sunset  of  that 
same  day.  He  was  endeavoring  to  make  out 
where  he  was,  and  how  he  came  thither,  or  what 
had  happened ;  or  whether,  indeed,  anything 
had  happened,  unless  to  have  fallen  asleep,  and 
to  be  still  enveloped  in  the  fragments  of  some 
vivid  and  almost  tangible  dream,  the  more  con 
fused  because  so  vivid.  His  wits  did  not  come 
so  readily  about  him  as  usual ;  there  may  have 
been  a  slight  delusion,  which  mingled  itself  with 
his  sober  perceptions,  and  by  its  leaven  of  ex 
travagance  made  the  whole  substance  K  the 
scene  untrue.  Thus  it  happened  that,  as  it 
were  at  the  same  instant,  he  fancied  himself 
years  back  in  life,  thousands  of  miles  away,  in  a 
164 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

gloomy  cobwebbed  room,  looking  out  upon  a 
graveyard,  while  yet,  neither  more  nor  less  dis 
tinctly,  he  was  conscious  of  being  in  a  small 
chamber,  panelled  with  oak,  and  furnished  in  an 
antique  style.  He  was  doubtful,  too,  whether 
or  no  there  was  a  grim  feudal  figure,  in  a  shabby 
dressing  gown  and  an  old  velvet  cap,  sitting 
in  the  dusk  of  the  room,  smoking  a  pipe  that 
diffused  a  scent  of  tobacco,  —  quaffing  a  deep- 
hued  liquor  out  of  a  tumbler, —  looking  up 
wards  at  a  spider  that  hung  above.  Was  there, 
too,  a  child  sitting  in  a  little  chair  at  his  foot 
stool  ?  In  his  earnestness  to  see  this  appari 
tion  more  distinctly,  he  opened  his  eyes  wider 
and  stirred,  and  ceased  to  see  it  at  all. 

But  though  that  other  dusty,  squalid,  cob- 
webbed  scene  quite  vanished,  and  along  with  it 
the  two  figures,  old  and  young,  grim  and  child 
ish,  of  whose  portraits  it  had  been  the  frame 
work,  still  there  were  features  in  the  old,  oaken- 
panelled  chamber  that  seemed  to  belong  rather 
to  his  dream.  The  panels  were  ornamented, 
here  and  there,  with  antique  carving,  represent 
ing  over  and  over  again  an  identical  device, 
being  a  bare  arm,  holding  the  torn-off  head  of 
some  savage  beast,  which  the  stranger  could  not 
know  by  species,  any  more  than  Agassiz  himself 
could  have  assigned  its  type  or  kindred ;  because 
it  was  that  kind  of  natural  history  of  which  her 
aldry  alone  keeps  the  menagerie.  But  it  was 
165 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

just  as  familiar  to  his  recollection  as  that  of  the 
cat  which  he  had  fondled  in  his  childhood. 

There  was  likewise  a  mantelpiece,  heavily 
wrought  of  oak,  quite  black  with  smoke  and  age, 
in  the  centre  of  which,  more  prominent  than 
elsewhere,  was  that  same  leopard's  head  that 
seemed  to  thrust  itself  everywhere  into  sight,  as 
if  typifying  some  great  mystery  which  human 
nature  would  never  be  at  rest  till  it  had  solved  ; 
and  below,  in  a  cavernous  hollow,  there  was  a 
smouldering  fire  of  coals  ;  for  the  genial  day  had 
suddenly  grown  chill,  and  a  shower  of  rain  spat 
tered  against  the  small  window  panes,  almost 
at  the  same  time  with  the  struggling  sunshine. 
And  over  the  mantelpiece,  where  the  light  of 
the  declining  day  came  strongest  from  the  win 
dow,  there  was  a  larger  and  more  highly  re 
lieved  carving  of  this  same  device,  and  under 
neath  it  a  legend,  in  Old  English  letters,  which, 
though  his  eyes  could  not  precisely  trace  it  at 
that  distance,  he  knew  to  be  this  :  — 

"  SfoItJ  jjarU  tjje  $eaU." 

Otherwise  the  aspect  of  the  room  bewildered 
him  by  not  being  known,  since  these  details  were 
so  familiar :  a  narrow  precinct  it  was,  with  one 
window  full  of  old-fashioned,  diamond-shaped 
panes  of  glass ;  a  small  desk  table,  standing  on 
clawed  feet ;  two  or  three  high-backed  chairs, 
on  the  top  of  each  of  which  was  carved  that 
166 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

same  crest  of  the  fabulous  brute's  head,  which 
the  carver's  fancy  seemed  to  have  clutched  so 
strongly  that  he  could  not  let  it  go ;  in  another 
part  of  the  room  a  very  old  engraving,  rude  and 
strong,  representing  some  ruffled  personage, 
which  the  stranger  only  tried  to  make  out  with 
a  sort  of  idle  curiosity,  because  it  was  strange 
he  should  dream  so  distinctly. 

Very  soon  it  became  intolerably  irritating 
that  these  two  dreams,  both  purposeless,  should 
have  mingled  and  entangled  themselves  in  his 
mind.  He  made  a  nervous  and  petulant  mo 
tion,  intending  to  rouse  himself  fully  ;  and  im 
mediately  a  sharp  pang  of  physical  pain  took 
him  by  surprise,  and  made  him  groan  aloud. 

Immediately  there  was  an  almost  noiseless 
step  on  the  floor ;  and  a  figure  emerged  from  a 
deep  niche,  that  looked  as  if  it  might  once  have 
been  an  oratory,  in  ancient  times  ;  and  the 
figure,  too,  might  have  been  supposed  to  pos 
sess  the  devout  and  sanctified  character  of  such 
as  knelt  in  the  oratories  of  ancient  times.  It 
was  an  elderly  man,  tall,  thin,  and  pale,  and  wea*-- 
ing  a  long,  dark  tunic,  and  in  a  peculiar  fashion, 
which  —  like  almost  everything  else  about  him 
—  the  stranger  seemed  to  have  a  confused  re 
membrance  of;  this  venerable  person  had  a  be 
nign  and  pitiful  aspect,  and  approached  the  bed 
side  with  such  good  will  and  evident  desire  to 
do  the  sufferer  good,  that  the  latter  felt  soothed, 
167 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

at  least,  by  his  very  presence.  He  lay,  a  mo 
ment,  gazing  up  at  the  old  man's  face,  without 
being  able  to  exert  himself  to  say  a  word,  but 
sensible,  as  it  were,  of  a  mild,  soft  influence 
from  him,  cooling  the  fever  which  seemed  to 
burn  in  his  veins. 

"  Do  you  suffer  much  pain  ?  "  asked  the  old 
man  gently. 

"  None  at  all,"  said  the  stranger  ;  but  again 
a  slight  motion  caused  him  to  feel  a  burning 
twinge  in  his  shoulder.  "  Yes  ;  there  was  a 
throb  of  strange  anguish.  Why  should  I  feel 
pain  ?  Where  am  I  ?  " 

"In  safety,  and  with  those  who  desire  to  be 
your  friends,"  said  the  old  man.  "  You  have 
met  with  an  accident ;  but  do  not  inquire  about 
it  now.  Quiet  is  what  you  need." 

Still  the  traveller  gazed  at  him  ;  and  the  old 
man's  figure  seemed  to  enter  into  his  dream,  or 
delirium,  whichever  it  might  be,  as  if  his  peace 
ful  presence  were  but  a  shadow,  so  quaint  was 
his  address,  so  unlike  real  life,  in  that  dark  robe, 
with  a  velvet  skullcap  on  his  head,  beneath 
which  his  hair  made  a  silvery  border ; 2  and  look 
ing  more  closely,  the  stranger  saw  embroidered 
on  the  breast  of  the  tunic  that  same  device,  the 
arm  and  the  leopard's  head,  which  was  visible 
in  the  carving  of  the  room.  Yes  ;  this  must 
still  be  a  dream,  which,  under  the  unknown  laws 
which  govern  such  psychical  states,  had  brought 
168 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

out  thus  vividly  figures,  devices,  words,  forgot 
ten  since  his  boyish  days.  Though  of  an  im 
aginative  tendency,  the  stranger  was  neverthe 
less  strongly  tenacious  of  the  actual,  and  had  a 
natural  horror  at  the  idea  of  being  seriously  at 
odds,  in  beliefs,  perceptions,  conclusions,  with 
the  real  world  about  him  ;  so  that  a  tremor  ran 
through  him,  as  if  he  felt  the  substance  of  the 
world  shimmering  before  his  eyes  like  a  mere 
vaporous  consistency. 

"  Are  you  real  ? "  said  he  to  the  antique  pre 
sence  ;  "  or  a  spirit  ?  or  a  fantasy  ?  " 

The  old  man  laid  his  thin,  cool  palm  on  the 
stranger's  burning  forehead,  and  smiled  benig- 
nantly,  keeping  it  there  an  instant. 

"  If  flesh  and  blood  are  real,  I  am  so,"  said 
he  ;  "a  spirit,  too,  I  may  claim  to  be,  made 
thin  by  fantasy.  Again,  do  not  perplex  your 
self  with  such  things.  To-morrow  you  may 
find  denser  substance  in  me.  Drink  this  com 
posing  draught,  and  close  your  eyes  to  those 
things  that  disturb  you." 

"  Your  features,  too,  and  your  voice,"  said 
the  stranger,  in  a  resigned  tone,  as  if  he  were 
giving  up  a  riddle,  the  solution  of  which  he 
could  not  find,  "  have  an  image  and  echo  some 
where  in  my  memory.  It  is  all  an  entangle 
ment.  I  will  drink,  and  shut  my  eyes." 

He  drank  from  a  little  old-fashioned  silver 
cup,  which  his  venerable  guardian  presented  to 
160 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

his  lips  ;  but  in  so  doing  he  was  still  perplexed 
and  tremulously  disturbed  with  seeing  that  same 
weary  old  device,  the  leopard's  head,  engraved 
on  the  side  ;  and  shut  his  eyes  to  escape  it,  for 
it  irritated  a  certain  portion  of  his  brain  with 
vague,  fanciful,  elusive  ideas.  So  he  sighed, 
and  spoke  no  more.  The  medicine,  whatever 
it  might  be,  had  the  merit,  rare  in  doctor's  stuff, 
of  being  pleasant  to  take,  assuasive  of  thirst, 
and  imbued  with  a  hardly  perceptible  fragrance, 
that  was  so  ethereal  that  it  also  seemed  to  enter 
into  his  dream  and  modify  it.  He  kept  his 
eyes  closed,  and  fell  into  a  misty  state,  in  which 
he  wondered  whether  this  could  be  the  panacea 
or  medicament  which  old  Doctor  Grimshawe 
used  to  distil  from  cobwebs,  and  of  which  the 
fragrance  seemed  to  breathe  through  all  the 
waste  of  years  since  then.  He  wondered,  too, 
who  was  this  benign,  saintlike  old  man,  and 
where,  in  what  former  state  of  being,  he  could 
nave  known  -him ;  to  have  him  thus,  as  no 
strange  thing,  and  yet  so  strange,  be  attending 
at  his  bedside,  with  all  this  ancient  garniture. 
But  it  was  best  to  dismiss  all  things,  he  being 
so  weak  ;  to  resign  himself;  all  this  had  hap 
pened  before,  and  had  passed  away,  prosper 
ously  or  unprosperously  ;  it  would  pass  away 
in  this  case,  likewise ;  and  in  the  morning  what 
ever  might  be  delusive  would  have  disappeared 
170 


CHAPTER  XIII 

THE  patient1  had  a  favorable  night,  and 
awoke  with  a  much  clearer  head,  though 
still  considerably  feverish  and  in  a  state 
of  great  exhaustion  from  loss  of  blood,  which 
kept  down  the  fever.  The  events  of  the  pre 
ceding  day  shimmered  as  it  were  and  shifted 
illusively  in  his  recollection  ;  nor  could  he  yet 
account  for  the  situation  in  which  he  found  him 
self,  the  antique  chamber,  the  old  man  of  mediae 
val  garb,  nor  even  for  the  wound  which  seemed 
to  have  been  the  occasion  of  bringing  him 
thither.  One  moment,  so  far  as  he  remem 
bered,  he  had  been  straying  along  a  solitary 
footpath,  through  rich  shrubbery,  with  the  ant- 
lered  deer  peeping  at  him,  listening  to  the  lark 
and  the  cuckoo  ;  the  next,  he  lay  helpless  in 
this  oak-panelled  chamber,  surrounded  with 
objects  that  appealed  to  some  fantastic  shadow 
of  recollection,  which  could  have  had  no  real 
ity.2 

To  say  the  truth,  the  traveller  perhaps  wil 
fully  kept  hold  of  this  strange  illusiveness,  and 
kept  his  thoughts  from  too  harshly  analyzing 
his  situation,  and  solving  the  riddle  in  which  he 
found  himself  involved.  In  his  present  weak- 
171 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

ness,  his  mind  sympathizing  with  the  sinking 
down  of  his  physical  powers,  it  was  delightful 
to  let  all  go  ;  to  relinquish  all  control,  and  let 
himself  drift  vaguely  into  whatever  region  of 
improbabilities  there  exists  apart  from  the  dull, 
common  plane  of  life.  Weak,  stricken  down, 
given  over  to  influences  which  had  taken  pos 
session  of  him  during  an  interval  of  insensibil 
ity,  he  was  no  longer  responsible ;  let  these  de 
lusions,  if  they  were  such,  linger  as  long  as  they 
would,  and  depart  of  their  own  accord  at  last. 
He,  meanwhile,  would  willingly  accept  the  idea 
that  some  spell  had  transported  him  out  of  an 
epoch  in  which  he  had  led  a  brief,  troubled  ex 
istence  of  battle,  mental  strife,  success,  failure, 
all  equally  feverish  and  unsatisfactory,  into  some 
past  century,  where  the  business  was  to  rest, 
—  to  drag  on  dreamy  days,  looking  at  things 
through  half-shut  eyes  ;  into  a  limbo  where 
things  were  put  away,  shows  of  what  had  once 
been,  now  somehow  fainted,  and  still  maintain 
ing  a  sort  of  half-existence,  a  serious  mockery ; 
a  state  likely  enough  to  exist  just  a  little  apart 
from  the  actual  world,  if  we  only  know  how  to 
find  our  way  into  it.  Scenes  and  events  that 
had  once  stained  themselves,  in  deep  colors,  on 
the  curtain  that  Time  hangs  around  us,  to  shut 
us  in  from  eternity,  cannot  be  quite  effaced  by 
the  succeeding  phantasmagoria,  and  sometimes, 
172 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

by  a  palimpsest,  show  more  strongly  than 
they.3 

In  the  course  of  the  morning,  however,  he 
was  a  little  too  feelingly  made  sensible  of  reali 
ties  by  the  visit  of  a  surgeon,  who  proceeded  to 
examine  the  wound  in  his  shoulder,  removing 
the  bandages  which  he  himself  seemed  to  have 
put  upon  this  mysterious  hurt.  The  traveller 
closed  his  eyes,  and  submitted  to  the  manipula 
tions  of  the  professional  person,  painful  as  they 
were,  assisted  by  the  gentle  touch  of  the  old 
palmer  ;  and  there  was  something  in.  the  way 
in  which  he  resigned  himself  that  met  the  ap- 
probation  of  the  surgeon,  in  spite  of  a  little 
fever,  and  slight  delirium  too,  to  judge  by  his 
eye. 

"  A  very  quiet  and  well-behaved  patient," 
said  he  to  the  palmer.  "  Unless  I  greatly  mis 
take,  he  has  been  under  the  surgeon's  hand  for 
a  similar  hurt  ere  now.  He  has  learned  under 
good  discipline  how  to  take  such  a  thing  easily. 
Yes,  yes;  just  here  is  a  mark  where  a  bullet 
went  in  some  time  ago,  —  three  or  four  years 
since,  when  he  could  have  been  little  more  than 
a  boy.  A  wild  fellow  this,  I  doubt." 

"It  was  an  Indian  bullet,"  said  the  patient, 
still  fancying  himself  gone  astray  into  the  past, 
"  shot  at  me  in  battle  ;  't  was  three  hundred 
years  hereafter." 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

f(  Ah  !  he  has  served  in  the  East  Indies,"  said 
the  surgeon.  "  I  thought  this  sunburned  cheek 
had  taken  its  hue  elsewhere  than  in  England." 

The  patient  did  not  care  to  take  the  trouble 
which  would  have  been  involved  in  correcting 
the  surgeon's  surmise ;  so  he  let  it  pass,  and 
patiently  awaited  the  end  of  the  examination, 
with  only  a  moan  or  two,  which  seemed  rather 
pleasing  and  desirable  than  otherwise  to  the 
surgeon's  ear. 

"  He  has  vitality  enough  for  his  needs,"  said 
he,  nodding  to  the  palmer.  "  These  groans 
betoken  a  good  degree  of  pain ;  though  the 
young  fellow  is  evidently  a  self-contained  sort 
of  nature,  and  does  not  let  us  know  all  he  feels. 
It  promises  well,  however  ;  keep  him  in  bed 
and  quiet,  and  within  a  day  or  two  we  shall  see." 

He  wrote  a  recipe,  or  two  or  three,  perhaps 
(for  in  those  days  the  medical  fraternity  had 
faith  in  their  own  art),  and  took  his  leave. 

The  white-bearded  palmer  withdrew  into  the 
half-concealment  of  the  oratory  which  we  have 
already  mentioned,  and  then,  putting  on  a  pair 
of  spectacles,  betook  himself  to  the  perusal  of 
an  old  folio  volume,  the  leaves  of  which  he 
turned  over  so  gently  that  not  the  slightest 
sound  could  possibly  disturb  the  patient.  All 
his  manifestations  were  gentle  and  soft,  but  of 
a  simplicity  most  unlike  the  feline  softness 
which  we  are  apt  to  associate  with  a  noiseless 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

tread  and  movement  in  the  male  sex.  The  sun 
shine  came  through  the  ivy  and  glimmered  upon 
his  great  book,  however,  with  an  effect  which 
a  little  disturbed  the  patient's  nerves ;  besides, 
he  desired  to  have  a  fuller  view  of  his  benign 
guardian. 

"  Will  you  sit  nearer  the  bedside?  "  said  he. 
"  I  wish  to  look  at  you." 

Weakness,  the  relaxation  of  nerves,  and  the 
state  of  dependence  on  another's  care  —  very 
long  unfelt  —  had  made  him  betray  what  we 
must  call  childishness  ;  and  it  was  perceptible 
in  the  low  half-complaining  tone  in  which  he 
spoke,  indicating  a  consciousness  of  kindness 
in  the  other,  a  little  plaintiveness  in  himself; 
of  which,  the  next  instant,  weak  and  wandering 
as  he  was,  he  was  ashamed,  and  essayed  to  ex 
press  it.4 

"  You  must  deem  me  very  poor-spirited,'* 
said  he,  "  not  to  bear  this  trifling  hurt  with  a 
firmer  mind.  But  perhaps  it  is  not  entirely  that 
I  am  so  weak,  but  I  feel  you  to  be  so  benign." 

"  Be  weak,  and  be  the  stronger  for  it,"  said 
the  old  man,  with  a  grave  smile.  "It  is  not  in 
the  pride  of  our  strength  that  we  are  best  or 
wisest.  To  be  made  anew,  we  even  must  be 
again  a  little  child,  and  consent  to  be  enwrapt 
quietly  in  the  arms  of  Providence,  as  a  child  in 
its  mother's  arms." 

"  I  never  knew  a  mother's  care,"  replied  the 
175 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

traveller,  in  a  low,  regretful  tone,  being  weak  to 
the  incoming  of  all  soft  feelings,  in  his  present 
state.  "  Since  my  boyhood,  I  have  lived  among 
men,  —  a  life  of  struggle  and  hard  rivalry.  It 
is  good  to  find  myself  here  in  the  long  past, 
and  in  a  sheltered  harbor." 

And  here  he  smiled,  by  way  of  showing  to 
this  old  palmer  that  he  saw  through  the  slight 
infirmity  of  mind  that  impelled  him  to  say  such 
things  as  the  above ;  that  he  was  not  its  dupe, 
though  he  had  not  strength,  just  now,  to  resist 
its  impulse.  After  this  he  dozed  off  softly,  and 
felt  through  all  his  sleep  some  twinges  of  his 
wound,  bringing  him  back,  as  it  were,  to  the 
conscious  surface  of  the  great  deep  of  slumber, 
into  which  he  might  otherwise  have  sunk.  At 
all  such  brief  intervals,  half  unclosing  his  eyes 
(like  a  child,  when  the  mother  sits  by  his  bed, 
and  he  fears  that  she  will  steal  away  if  he  falls 
quite  asleep,  and  leave  him  in  the  dark  solitude), 
he  still  beheld  the  white-bearded,  kindly  old 
man,  of  saintly  aspect,  sitting  near  him,  and 
turning  over  the  pages  of  his  folio  volume  so 
softly  that  not  the  faintest  rustle  did  it  make  ; 
the  picture  at  length  got  so  fully  into  his  idea, 
that  he  seemed  to  see  it  even  through  his  closed 
eyelids.  After  a  while,  however,  the  slumber 
ous  tendency  left  him  more  entirely,  and,  with 
out  having  been  consciously  awake,  he  found 
himself  contemplating  the  old  man,  with  wide- 
176 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

open  eyes.  The  venerable  personage  seemed 
soon  to  feel  his  gaze,  and,  ceasing  to  look  at 
the  folio,  he  turned  his  eyes  with  quiet  inquiry 
to  meet  those  of  the  stranger.5 

"  What  great  volume  is  that  ?  "  asked  the 
latter.6 

"  It  is  a  book  of  English  chronicles,"  said 
the  old  man,  "mostly  relating  to  the  part  of  the 
island  where  you  now  are,  and  to  times  previ 
ous  to  the  Stuarts." 

"  Ah  !  it  is  to  you,  a  contemporary,  what 
reading  the  newspaper  is  to  other  men,"  said 
the  stranger ;  then,  with  a  smile  of  self-reproach, 
"  I  shall  conquer  this  idle  mood.  I  'm  not  so 
imbecile  as  you  must  think  me.  But  there  is 
something  that  strangely  haunts  me,  —  where, 
in  what  state  of  being,  can  I  have  seen  your 
face  before  ?  There  is  nothing  in  it  I  distinctly 
remember ;  but  some  impression,  some  charac 
teristic,  some  look,  with  which  I  have  been  long 
ago  familiar,  haunts  me  and  brings  back  all  old 
scenes.  Do  you  know  me  ?  " 

The  old  man  smiled.  "  I  knew,  long  ago, 
a  bright  and  impressible  boy,"  said  he. 

"  And  his  name  ?  "  said  the  stranger. 

"  It  was  Edward  Redclyffe,"  said  the  old  man. 

"  Ah,  I  see  who  you  are,"  said  the  traveller, 
not  too  earnestly,  but  with  a  soft,  gratified  feel 
ing,  as  the  riddle  thus  far  solved  itself.  "  You 
are  my  old  kindly  instructor.  You  are  Colcord ' 
177 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

That  is  it.  I  remember  you  disappeared.  You 
shall  tell  me,  when  I  am  quite  myself,  what  was 
that  mystery,  —  and  whether  it  is  your  real  self, 
or  only  a  part  of  my  dream,  and  going  to  van 
ish  when  I  quite  awake.  Now  I  shall  sleep  and 
dream  more  of  it." 

One  more  waking  interval  he  had  that  day, 
and  again  essayed  to  enter  into  conversation 
with  the  old  man,  who  had  thus  strangely  again 
become  connected  with  his  life,  after  having  so 
long  vanished  from  his  path. 

"  Where  am  I  ?  "  asked  Edward  Redclyffe. 

"  In  the  home  of  misfortune,"  said  Colcord. 

"  Ah !  then  I  have  a  right  to  be  here ! "  said 
he.  "  I  was  born  in  such  a  home.  Do  you 
remember  it  ?  " 

"  I  know  your  story,"  said  Colcord. 

"Yes;  from  Doctor  Grim,"  said  Edward. 
"  People  whispered  he  had  made  away  with  you. 
I  never  believed  it ;  but  finding  you  here  in  this 
strange  way,  and  myself  having  been  shot,  per 
haps  to  death,  it  seems  not  so  strange.  Pooh  ! 
I  wander  again,  and  ought  to  sleep  a  little  more. 
And  this  is  the  home  of  misfortune,  but  not  like 
the  squalid  place  of  rage,  idiocy,  imbecility, 
drunkenness,  where  I  was  born.  How  many 
times  I  have  blushed  to  remember  that  native 
home  !  But  not  of  late  !  I  have  struggled  ;  I 
have  fought ;  I  have  triumphed.  The  unknown 
boy  has  come  to  be  no  undistinguished  man  ! 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

His  ancestry,  should  he  ever  reveal  himself  to 
them,  need  not  blush  for  the  poor  foundling." 

"  Hush  !  "  said  the  quiet  watcher.  "  Your 
fever  burns  you.  Take  this  draught,  and  sleep 
a  little  longer." T 

Another  day  or  two  found  Edward  Redclyffe 
almost  a  convalescent.  The  singular  lack  of 
impatience  that  characterized  his  present  mood 

—  the  repose  of  spirit  into  which  he  had  lapsed 

—  had  much  to  do  with  the  favorable  progress 
of  his  cure.     After  strife,  anxiety,  great  mental 
exertion,  and  excitement  of  various  kinds,  which 
had  harassed  him  ever  since  he  grew  to  be  a 
man,  had  come  this  opportunity  of  perfect  rest ; 

—  this  dream  in  the  midst  of  which  he  lay,  while 
its  magic  boundaries  involved  him,  and  kept  far 
off  the  contact  of  actual  life,  so  that  its  sounds 
and  tumults  seemed  remote  ;  its  cares  could  not 
fret  him  ;  its  ambitions,  objects  good  or  evil, 
were  shut  out  from  him  ;  the  electric  wires  that 
had  connected  him  with  the  battery  of  life  were 
broken  for  the  time,  and  he  did  not  feel  the  un 
quiet  influence  that  kept  everybody  else  in  gal 
vanic  motion.      So,  under  the  benign  influence 
of  the  old  palmer,  he  lay  in  slumberous  luxury, 
undisturbed  save  by  some  twinges  of  no  intol 
erable  pain  ;  which,  however,  he  almost  was  glad 
of,  because  it  made  him  sensible  that  this  deep 
luxury  of  quiet  was  essential  to  his  cure,  how 
ever  idle  it  might  seem.    For  the  first  time  since 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

he  was  a  child,  he  resigned  himself  not  to  put  a 
finger  to  the  evolution  of  his  fortune  ;  he  deter 
mined  to  accept  all  things  that  might  happen, 
good  or  evil ;  he  would  not  imagine  an  event 
beyond  to-day,  but  would  let  one  spontaneous 
and  half-defined  thought  loiter  after  another, 
through  his  mind ;  listen  to  the  spattering 
shower,  —  the  puffs  of  shut-out  wind  ;  and  look 
with  half-shut  eyes  at  the  sunshine  glimmering 
through  the  ivy  twigs,  and  illuminating  those  old 
devices  on  the  wall ;  at  the  gathering  twilight ; 
at  the  dim  lamp;  at  the  creeping  upward  of 
another  day,  and  with  it  the  lark  singing  so  far 
away  that  the  thrill  of  its  delicious  song  could 
not  disturb  him  with  an  impulse  to  awake. 
Sweet  as  its  carol  was,  he  could  almost  have 
been  content  to  miss  the  lark;  sweet  and  clear, 
it  was  too  like  a  fairy  trumpet  call,  summoning 
him  to  awake  and  struggle  again  with  eager 
combatants  for  new  victories,  the  best  of  which 
were  not  worth  this  deep  repose. 

The  old  palmer  did  his  best  to  prolong  a 
mood  so  beneficial  to  the  wounded  young  man. 
The  surgeon  also  nodded  approval,  and  attrib 
uted  this  happy  state  of  the  patient's  mind, 
and  all  the  physical  advantages  growing  out  of 
it,  to  his  own  consummate  skill  ;  nor,  indeed, 
was  he  undeserving  of  credit,  not  often  to  be 
awarded  to  medical  men,  for  having  done  no 
thing  to  impede  the  good  which  kind  Nature 
180 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

was  willing  to  bring  about.  She  was  doing  the 
patient  more  good,  indeed,  than  either  the  sur 
geon  or  the  palmer  could  fully  estimate,  in  tak 
ing  this  opportunity  to  recreate  a  mind  that  had 
too  early  known  stirring  impulse,  and  that  had 
been  worked  to  a  degree  beyond  what  its  or 
ganization  (in  some  respects  singularly  delicate) 
ought  to  have  borne.  Once  in  a  long  while 
the  weary  actors  in  the  headlong  drama  of  life 
must  have  such  repose,  or  else  go  mad  or  die. 
When  the  machinery  of  human  life  has  once 
been  stopped  by  sickness  or  other  impediment, 
it  often  needs  an  impulse  to  set  it  going  again, 
even  after  it  is  nearly  wound  up. 

But  it  could  not  last  forever.  The  influx  of 
new  life  into  his  being  began  to  have  a  poign 
ancy  that  would  not  let  him  lie  so  quietly, 
lapped  in  the  past,  in  gone-by  centuries,  and 
waited  on  by  quiet  Age,  in  the  person  of  the 
old  palmer  ;  he  began  to  feel  again  that  he  was 
young,  and  must  live  in  the  time  when  his  lot 
was  cast.  He  began  to  say  to  himself,  that  it 
was  not  well  to  be  any  longer  passive,  but  that 
he  must  again  take  the  troublesome  burden  of 
his  own  life  on  his  own  shoulders.  He  thought 
of  this  necessity,  this  duty,  throughout  one 
whole  day,  and  determined  that  on  the  morrow 
he  would  make  the  first  step  towards  terminating 
his  inaction,  which  he  now  began  to  be  half  im 
patient  of,  at  the  same  time  that  he  clutched  it 
181 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

still,  for  the  sake  of  the  deliciousness  that  it  had 
had. 

"To-morrow,  I  hope  to  be  clothed  and  in 
my  right  mind,"  said  he  to  the  old  palmer, 
"  and  very  soon  I  must  thank  you,  with  my 
whole  heart,  for  your  kind  care,  and  go.  It  is 
a  shame  that  I  burden  the  hospitality  of  this 
house  so  long.'* 

"  No  shame  whatever,"  replied  the  old  man, 
"  but,  on  the  contrary,  the  fittest  thing  that 
could  have  chanced.  You  are  dependent  on  no 
private  benevolence,  nor  on  the  good  offices  of 
any  man  now  living,  or  who  has  lived  these  last 
three  hundred  years.  This  ancient  establish 
ment  is  for  the  support  of  poverty,  misfortune, 
and  age,  and,  according  to  the  word  of  the 
founder,  it  serves  him :  —  he  was  indebted  to 
the  beneficiaries,  not  they  to  him,  for,  in  re 
turn  for  his  temporal  bequests,  he  asked  their 
prayers  for  his  soul's  welfare.  He  needed  them, 
could  they  avail  him  ;  for  this  ponderous  struc 
ture  was  built  upon  the  founder's  mortal  trans 
gressions,  and  even,  I  may  say,  out  of  the  actual 
substance  of  them.  Sir  Edward  Redclyffe  was 
a  fierce  fighter  in  the  Wars  of  the  Roses,  and 
amassed  much  wealth  by  spoil,  rapine,  confisca 
tion,  and  all  violent  and  evil  ways  that  those 
disturbed  times  opened  to  him ;  and  on  his 
deathbed  he  founded  this  Hospital  for  twelve 
men,  who  should  be  able  to  prove  kindred  with 
182 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

his  race,  to  dwell  here  with  a  stipend,  and  pray 
for  him ;  and  likewise  provision  for  a  sick 
stranger,  until  he  should  be  able  to  go  on  his 
way  again." 

"  I  shall  pray  for  him  willingly,"  said  Edward, 
moved  by  the  pity  which  awaits  any  softened 
state  of  our  natures  to  steal  into  our  hearts. 
"  Though  no  Catholic,  I  will  pray  for  his  soul. 
And  that  is  his  crest  which  you  wear  embroid 
ered  on  your  garment  ?  " 

"  It  is,"  said  the  old  man.  "  You  will  see  it 
carved,  painted,  embroidered,  everywhere  about 
the  establishment ;  but  let  us  give  it  the  better 
and  more  reasonable  interpretation  ;  —  not  that 
he  sought  to  proclaim  his  own  pride  of  ancestry 
and  race,  but  to  acknowledge  his  sins  the  more 
manifestly,  by  stamping  the  emblem  of  his  race 
on  this  structure  of  his  penitence." 

"  And  are  you,"  said  Redclyffe,  impressed 
anew  by  the  quiet  dignity  of  the  venerable 
speaker,  "  in  authority  in  the  establishment  ?  " 

"  A  simple  beneficiary  of  the  charity,"  said 
the  palmer ;  "  one  of  the  twelve  poor  brethren 
and  kinsmen  of  the  founder.  Slighter  proofs 
of  kindred  are  now  of  necessity  received,  since, 
in  the  natural  course  of  things,  the  race  has  long 
been  growing  scarce.  But  I  had  it  in  my  power 
to  make  out  a  sufficient  claim." 

"  Singular,"  exclaimed  Redclyffe3 "  you  being 
an  American  !  "  8 

183 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

"  You  remember  me,  then,"  said  the  old  man 
quietly. 

"  From  the  first,"  said  Edward,  "  although 
your  image  took  the  fantastic  aspect  of  the  be 
wilderment  in  which  I  then  was  ;  and  now  that 
I  am  in  clearer  state  of  mind,  it  seems  yet 
stranger  that  you  should  be  here.  We  two 
children  thought  you  translated,  and  people,  I 
remember,  whispered  dark  hints  about  your 
fate." 

"  There  was  nothing  wonderful  in  my  disap 
pearance,"  said  the  old  man.  "  There  were 
causes,  an  impulse,  an  intuition,  that  made  me 
feel,  one  particular  night,  that  I  might  meet 
harm,  whether  from  myself  or  others,  by  re 
maining  in  a  place  with  which  I  had  the  most 
casual  connection.  But  I  never,  so  long  as  I 
remained  in  America,  quite  lost  sight  of  you  ; 
and  Doctor  Grimshawe,  before  his  death,  had 
knowledge  of  where  I  was,  and  gave  me  in 
charge  a  duty  which  I  faithfully  endeavored  to 
perform.  Singular  man  that  he  was !  much 
evil,  much  good  in  him.  Both,  it  may  be,  will 
live  after  him  !  " 

Redclyffe,  when  the  conversation  had  reached 
this  point,  felt  a  vast  desire  to  reveal  to  the  old 
man  all  that  the  grim  Doctor  had  instilled  into 
his  childish  mind ;  all  that  he  himself,  in  sub 
sequent  years,  had  wrought  more  definitely  out 
of  it ;  all  his  accompanying  doubts  respecting 
184 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

the  secret  of  his  birth  and  some  supposed  claims 
which  he  might  assert,  and  which,  only  half 
acknowledging  the  purpose,  had  availed  to  bring 
him,  a  republican,  hither  as  to  an  ancestral 
centre.  He  even  fancied  that  the  benign  old 
man  seemed  to  expect  and  await  such  a  confi 
dence  ;  but  that  very  idea  contributed  to  make 
it  impossible  for  him  to  speak. 

"Another  time,"  he  said  to  himself.  "  Per 
haps  never.  It  is  a  fantastic  folly ;  and  with  what 
the  workhouse  foundling  has  since  achieved,  he 
would  give  up  too  many  hopes  to  take  the  re 
presentation  of  a  mouldy  old  English  family." 

"  I  find  my  head  still  very  weak,"  said  he,  by 
way  of  cutting  short  the  conversation.  "  I  must 
try  to  sleep  again." 


CHAPTER  XIV 

THE  next  day  he  called  for  his  clothes, 
and,  with  the  assistance  of  the  pen 
sioner,  managed  to  be  dressed,  and 
awaited  the  arrival  of  the  surgeon,  sitting  in  a 
great  easy-chair,  with  not  much  except  his  pale, 
thin  cheeks,  dark,  thoughtful  eyes,  and  his  arm 
in  a  sling,  to  show  the  pain  and  danger  through 
which  he  had  passed.  Soon  after  the  departure 
of  the  professional  gentleman,  a  step  somewhat 
louder  than  ordinary  was  heard  on  the  staircase, 
and  in  the  corridor  leading  to  the  sick-chamber, 
—  the  step  (as  Redclyffe's  perceptions,  nicely 
attempered  by  his  weakness,  assured  him)  of  a 
man  in  perfect  and  robust  health,  and  of  station 
and  authority.  A  moment  afterwards,  a  gentle 
man  of  middle  age,  or  a  little  beyond,  appeared 
in  the  doorway,  in  a  dress  that  seemed  clerical, 
yet  not  very  decidedly  so ;  he  had  a  frank, 
kindly,  yet  authoritative  bearing,  and  a  face  that 
might  almost  be  said  to  beam  with  geniality, 
when,  as  now,  the  benevolence  of  his  nature  was 
aroused  and  ready  to  express  itself. 

"  My  friend/'  said  he,  "  Doctor  Portingale 
tells  me  you  are  much  better ;  and  I  am  most 
happy  to  hear  it." 

1 86 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

There  was  something  brusque  and  unceremo 
nious  in  his  manner,  that  a  little  jarred  against 
Redclyffe's  sensitiveness,  which  had  become 
morbid  in  sympathy  with  his  weakness.  He 
felt  that  the  newcomer  had  not  probably  the 
right  idea  as  to  his  own  position  in  life ;  he  was 
addressing  him  most  kindly,  indeed,  but  as  an 
inferior. 

"  I  am  much  better,  sir,"  he  replied  gravely, 
and  with  reserve ;  "  so  nearly  well,  that  I  shall 
very  soon  be  able  to  bid  farewell  to  my  kind 
nurse  here,  and  to  this  ancient  establishment,  to 
which  I  owe  so  much." 

The  visitor  seemed  struck  by  Mr.  Red 
clyffe's  tone  and  finely  modulated  voice,  and 
glanced  at  his  face,  and  then  over  his  dress  and 
figure,  as  if  to  gather  from  them  some  reliable 
data  as  to  his  station. 

"  I  am  the  Warden  of  this  Hospital,"  said  he, 
with  not  less  benignity  than  heretofore,  and 
greater  courtesy ;  "  and,  in  that  capacity,  must 
consider  you  under  my  care,  —  as  my  guest,  in 
fact,  —  although,  owing  to  my  casual  absence, 
one  of  the  brethren  of  the  house  has  been  the 
active  instrument  in  attending  you.  I  am  most 
happy  to  find  you  so  far  recovered.  Do  you 
feel  yourself  in  a  condition  to  give  any  account 
of  the  accident  which  has  befallen  you  ?  " 

"It  will  be  a  very  unsatisfactory  one,  at 
best,"  said  Redclyffe,  trying  to  discover  some 
187 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

definite  point  in  his  misty  reminiscences.  "  I  am 
a  stranger  to  this  country,  and  was  on  a  pedes 
trian  tour  with  the  purpose  of  making  myself 
acquainted  with  the  aspects  of  English  scenery 
and  life.  I  had  turned  into  a  footpath,  being 
told  that  it  would  lead  me  within  view  of  an  old 
Hall,  which,  from  certain  early  associations,  I 
was  very  desirous  of  seeing.  I  think  I  went 
astray  ;  at  all  events,  the  path  became  indistinct ; 
and,  so  far  as  I  can  recollect,  I  had  just  turned 
to  retrace  my  steps,  —  in  fact,  that  is  the  last 
thing  in  my  memory." 

"  You  had  almost  fallen  a  sacrifice,"  said 
the  Warden,  "  to  the  old  preference  which  our 
English  gentry  have  inherited  from  their  Nor 
man  ancestry,  of  game  to  man.  You  had  come 
unintentionally  as  an  intruder  into  a  rich  pre 
serve  much  haunted  by  poachers,  and  exposed 
yourself  to  the  deadly  mark  of  a  spring  guns 
which  had  not  the  wit  to  distinguish  between  a 
harmless  traveller  and  a  poacher.  At  least,  such 
is  our  conclusion  ;  for  our  old  friend  here  (who 
luckily  for  you  is  a  great  rambler  in  the  woods), 
when  the  report  drew  him  to  the  spot,  found 
you  insensible,  and  the  gun  discharged." 

"  A  gun  has  so  little  discretion,"  said  Red- 
clyffe,  smiling,  "  that  it  seems  a  pity  to  trust 
entirely  to  its  judgment,  in  a  matter  of  life  and 
death.  But,  to  confess  the  truth,  I  had  come 
this  morning  to  the  suspicion  that  there  was  a 
1 88 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

direct  human  agency  in  the  matter ;  for  I  find 
missing  a  little  pocketbook  which  I  carried." 

"  Then,"  said  the  Warden,  "  that  certainly 
gives  a  new  aspect  to  the  affair.  Was  it  of 
value  ?  " 

"  Of  none  whatever,"  said  Redclyffe,  "  merely 
containing  pencil  memoranda,  and  notes  of  a 
traveller's  little  expenses.  I  had  papers  about 
me  of  far  more  value,  and  a  moderate  sum  of 
money,  a  letter  of  credit,  which  have  escaped.  I 
do  not,  however,  feel  inclined,  on  such  grounds, 
to  transfer  the  guilt  decidedly  from  the  spring 
gun  to  any  more  responsible  criminal ;  for  it  is 
very  possible  that  the  pocketbook,  being  care 
lessly  carried,  might  have  been  lost  on  the  way. 
I  had  not  used  it  since  the  preceding  day." 

"  Much  more  probable,  indeed,"  said  the 
Warden.  "  The  discharged  gun  is  strong  evi 
dence  against  itself.  Mr.  Colcord,"  continued 
he,  raising  his  voice,  "  how  long  was  the  interval 
between  the  discharge  of  the  gun  and  your  ar 
rival  on  the  spot  ?  " 

"  Five  minutes,  or  less,"  said  the  old  man, 
"for  I  was  not  far  off,  and  made  what  haste  I 
could,  it  being  borne  in  on  my  spirit  that  mis 
chief  was  abroad." 

"  Did  you  hear  two  reports  ?  "  asked  the 
Warden. 

"  Only  one,"  replied  Colcord. 

"  It  is  a  plain  case  against  the  spring  gun," 
189 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

said  the  Warden  ;  "  and,  as  you  tell  me  you  are 
a  stranger,  I  trust  you  will  not  suppose  that 
our  peaceful  English  woods  and  parks  are  the 
haunt  of  banditti.  We  must  try  to  give  you 
a  better  idea  of  us.  May  I  ask,  are  you  an 
American,  and  recently  come  among  us  ?  " 

"  I  believe  a  letter  of  credit  is  considered  as 
decisive  as  most  modes  of  introduction,"  said 
Redclyffe,  feeling  that  the  good  Warden  was 
desirous  of  knowing  with  some  precision  who 
and  what  he  was,  and  that,  in  the  circumstances, 
he  had  a  right  to  such  knowledge.  "  Here  is 
mine,  on  a  respectable  house  in  London." 

The  Warden  took  it  and  glanced  it  over,  with 
a  slight  apologetic  bow  ;  it  was  a  credit  for  a 
handsome  amount  in  favor  of  the  Honorable 
Edward  Redclyffe,  a  title  that  did  not  fail  to 
impress  the  Englishman  rather  favorably  to 
wards  his  new  acquaintance,  although  he  hap 
pened  -to  know  something  of  their  abundance, 
even  so  early  in  the  republic,  among  the  men 
branded  sons  of  equality.  But,  at  all  events,  it 
showed  no  ordinary  ability  and  energy  for  so 
young  a  man  to  have  held  such  position  as  this 
title  denoted  in  the  fiercely  contested  political 
struggles  of  the  new  democracy. 

"  Do  you   know,  Mr.   Redclyffe,  that    this 

name  is  familiar  to  us,  hereabouts  ?  "  asked  he, 

with  a   kindly   bow   and   recognition,  —  "that 

it  is  in  fact  the  principal  name  in  this  neighbor- 

190 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

hood,  —  that  a  family  of  your  name  still  pos 
sesses  Braithwaite  Hall,  and  that  this  very 
Hospital,  where  you  have  happily  found  shel 
ter,  was  founded  by  former  representatives  of 
your  name  ?  Perhaps  you  count  yourself  among 
their  kindred." 

"  My  countrymen  are  apt  to  advance  claims 
to  kinship  with  distinguished  English  families 
on  such  slight  grounds  as  to  make  it  ridiculous," 
said  Redclyffe,  coloring.  "  I  should  not  choose 
to  follow  so  absurd  an  example." 

"  Well,  well,  perhaps  not,"  said  the  Warden, 
laughing  frankly.  "  I  have  been  amongst  your 
republicans  myself,  a  long  while  ago,  and  saw 
that  your  countrymen  have  no  adequate  idea  of 
the  sacredness  of  pedigrees  and  heraldic  dis 
tinctions,  and  would  change  their  own  names  at 
pleasure,  and  vaunt  kindred  with  an  English 
duke  on  the  strength  of  the  assumed  one.  But 
I  am  happy  to  meet  an  American  gentleman 
who  looks  upon  this  matter  as  Englishmen  ne 
cessarily  must.  I  met  with  great  kindness  in 
your  country,  Mr.  Redclyffe,  and  shall  be  truly 
happy  if  you  will  allow  me  an  opportunity  of 
returning  some  small  part  of  the  obligation. 
You  are  now  in  a  condition  for  removal  to  my 
own  quarters,  across  the  quadrangle.  I  will 
give  orders  to  prepare  an  apartment,  and  you 
must  transfer  yourself  there  by  dinner  time." 

With  this  hospitable  proposal,  so  decisively 
191 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

expressed,  the  Warden  took  his  leave  ;  and 
Edward  Redclyffe  had  hardly  yet  recovered 
sufficient  independent  force  to  reject  an  invi 
tation  so  put,  even  were  he  inclined  ;  but,  in 
truth,  the  proposal  suited  well  with  his  wishes, 
such  as  they  were,  and  was,  moreover,  backed, 
it  is  singular  to  say,  by  another  of  those  dream 
like  recognitions  which  had  so  perplexed  him 
ever  since  he  found  himself  in  the  Hospital. 
In  some  previous  state  of  being,  the  Warden 
and  he  had  talked  together  before. 

"  What  is  the  Warden's  name  ?  "  he  inquired 
of  the  old  pensioner. 

"  Hammond,"  said  the  old  man  ;  "  he  is  a 
kinsman  of  the  Redclyffe  family  himself,  a  man 
of  fortune,  and  spends  more  than  the  income  cf 
his  wardenship  in  beautifying  and  keeping  up 
the  glory  of  the  establishment.  He  takes  great 
pride  in  it." 

"  And  he  has  been  in  America,"  said  Red 
clyffe.  "  How  strange  !  I  knew  him  there. 
Never  was  anything  so  singular  as  the  discovery 
of  old  acquaintances  where  I  had  reason  to  sup 
pose  myself  unknowing  and  unknown.  Unless 
dear  Doctor  Grim,  or  dear  little  Elsie,  were  to 
start  up  and  greet  me,  I  know  not  what  may 
chance  next." 

Redclyffe  took  up  his  quarters  in  the  War 
den's  house  the  next  day,  and  was  installed  in 
an  apartment  that  made  a  picture,  such  as  he 
192 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

had  not  before  seen,  of  English  household  com 
fort.  He  was  thus  established  under  the  good 
Warden's  roof,  and,  being  very  attractive  of 
most  people's  sympathies,  soon  began  to  grow 
greatly  in  favor  with  that  kindly  personage. 

When  Edward  Redclyffe  removed  from  the 
old  pensioner's  narrow  quarters  to  the  far  am 
pler  accommodations  of  the  Warden's  house,  the 
latter  gentleman  was  taking  his  morning  exer 
cise  on  horseback.  A  servant,  however,  in  a 
grave  livery,  ushered  him  to  an  apartment, 
where  the  new  guest  was  surprised  to  see  some 
luggage  which  two  or  three  days  before  Edward 
had  ordered  from  London,  on  finding  that  his 
stay  in  this  part  of  the  country  was  likely  to  be 
much  longer  than  he  had  originally  contem 
plated.  The  sight  of  these  things  —  the  sense 
which  they  conveyed  that  he  was  an  expected 
and  welcome  guest  —  tended  to  raise  the  spirits 
of  the  solitary  wanderer,  and  made  him  .  .  .  .* 

The  Warden's  abode  was  an  original  part  of 
the  ancient  establishment,  being  an  entire  side 
of  the  quadrangle  which  the  whole  edifice  sur 
rounded  ;  and  for  the  establishment  of  a  bache 
lor  (which  was  his  new  friend's  condition),  it 
seemed  to  Edward  Redclyffe  abundantly  spa 
cious  and  enviably  comfortable.  His  own  cham 
ber  had  a  grave,  rich  depth,  as  it  were,  of  serene 
and  time-long  garniture,  for  purposes  of  repose, 
convenience,  daily  and  nightly  comfort,  that  it 
193 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

was  soothing  even  to  look  at.  Long  accus 
tomed,  as  Redclyffe  had  been,  to  the  hardy  and 
rude  accommodations,  if  so  they  were  to  be 
called,  of  log  huts  and  hasty,  mud-built  houses 
in  the  Western  States  of  America,  life,  its  daily 
habits,  its  passing  accommodations,  seemed  to 
assume  an  importance,  under  these  aspects, 
which  it  had  not  worn  before ;  those  deep  downy 
beds,  those  antique  chairs,  the  heavy  carpet,  the 
tester  and  curtains,  the  stateliness  of  the  old 
room,  —  they  had  a  charm  as  compared  with 
the  thin  preparation  of  a  forester's  bedchamber, 
such  as  Redclyffe  had  chiefly  known  them,  in 
the  ruder  parts  of  the  country,  that  really  seemed 
to  give  a  more  substantial  value  to  life  ;  so 
much  pains  had  been  taken  with  its  modes  and 
appliances,  that  it  looked  more  solid  than  be 
fore.  Nevertheless,  there  was  something  ghostly 
in  that  stately  curtained  bed,  with  the  deep  gloom 
within  its  drapery,  so  ancient  as  it  was;  and 
suggestive  of  slumberers  there  who  had  long 
since  slumbered  elsewhere. 

The  old  servant,  whose  grave,  circumspect 
courtesy  was  a  matter  quite  beyond  RedclyfFe's 
experience,  soon  knocked  at  the  chamber  door, 
and  suggested  that  the  guest  might  desire  to 
await  the  Warden's  arrival  in  the  library,  which 
was  the  customary  sitting  room.  RedclyfFe  as 
senting,  he  was  ushered  into  a  spacious  apart 
ment,  lighted  by  various  Gothic  windows,  sur- 
194 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

rounded  with  old  oaken  cases,  in  which  were 
ranged  volumes,  most  or  many  of  which  seemed 
to  be  coeval  with  the  foundation  of  the  Hospi 
tal  ;  and  opening  one  of  them,  Redclyffe  saw 
for  the  first  time  in  his  life 2  a  genuine  book 
worm,  that  ancient  form  of  creature  living  upon 
literature  ;  it  had  gnawed  a  circular  hole,  pene 
trating  through  perhaps  a  score  of  pages  of  the 
seldom  opened  volume,  and  was  still  at  his 
musty  feast.  There  was  a  fragrance  of  old 
learning  in  this  ancient  library ;  a  soothing  in 
fluence,  as  the  American  felt,  of  time-honored 
ideas,  where  the  strife,  novelties,  uneasy  agitat 
ing  conflict,  attrition  of  unsettled  theories,  fresh- 
springing  thought,  did  not  attain  a  foothold ;  a 
good  place  to  spend  a  life  which  should  not  be 
agitated  with  the  disturbing  element ;  so  quiet, 
so  peaceful ;  how  slowly,  with  how  little  wear, 
would  the  years  pass  here  !  How  unlike  what 
he  had  hitherto  known,  and  was  destined  to 
know,  —  the  quick,  violent  struggle  of  his 
mother  country,  which  had  traced  lines  in  his 
young  brow  already  !  How  much  would  be 
saved  by  taking  his  former  existence,  not  as 
dealing  with  things  yet  malleable,  but  with  fos 
sils,  things  that  had  had  their  life,  and  now 
were  unchangeable,  and  revered,  here  ! 

At  one  end  of  this  large  room  there  was  a 
bowed  window,  the  space  near  which  was  cur 
tained  oflf  from  the  rest  of  the  library,  and,  the 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

window  being  filled  with  painted  glass  (most  of 
which  seemed  old,  though  there  were  insertions 
evidently  of  modern  and  much  inferior  handi 
work),  there  was  a  rich  gloom  of  light,  or  you 
might  call  it  a  rich  glow,  according  to  your 
mood  of  mind.  Redclyffe  soon  perceived  that 
this  curtained  recess  was  the  especial  study  of 
his  friend,  the  Warden,  and  as  such  was  pro 
vided  with  all  that  modern  times  had  contrived 
for  making  an  enjoyment  out  of  the  perusal  of 
old  books :  a  study  table,  with  every  conven 
ience  of  multifarious  devices,  a  great  inkstand, 
pens  ;  a  luxurious  study  chair,  where  thought 
[illegible]  upon.  To  say  the  truth,  there  was 
not,  in  this  retired  and  thoughtful  nook,  any 
thing  that  indicated  to  Redclyffe  that  the  War 
den  had  been  recently  engaged  in  consultation 
of  learned  authorities,  —  or  in  abstract  labor, 
whether  moral,  metaphysical,  or  historic :  there 
was  a  volume  of  translations  of  Mother  Goose's 
Melodies  into  Greek  and  Latin,  printed  for 
private  circulation,  and  with  the  Warden's  name 
on  the  title-page  ;  a  London  newspaper  of  the 
preceding  day  ;  Lillebullero,  Chevy  Chase,  and 
the  old  political  ballads ;  and,  what  a  little 
amused  Redclyffe,  the  three  volumes  of  a  novel 
from  a  circulating  library  ;  so  that  Redclyffe 
came  to  the  conclusion  that  the  good  Warden, 
like  many  educated  men,  whose  early  scholas 
tic  propensities  are  backed  up  by  the  best  of 
196 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

opportunities,  and  all  desirable  facilities  and  sur 
roundings,  still  contented  himself  with  gather 
ing  a  flower  or  two,  instead  of  attempting  the 
hard  toil  requisite  to  raise  a  crop. 

It  must  not  be  omitted,  that  there  was  a  fra 
grance  in  the  room,  which,  unlike  as  the  scene 
was,  brought  back,  through  so  many  years,  to 
Redclyffe's  mind  a  most  vivid  remembrance  of 
poor  old  Doctor  Grim's  squalid  chamber,  with 
his  wild,  bearded  presence  in  the  midst  of  it, 
puffing  his  everlasting  cloud ;  for  here  was  the 
same  smell  of  tobacco,  and  on  the  mantelpiece 
of  a  chimney  lay  a  German  pipe,  and  an  old 
silver  tobacco  box  into  which  was  wrought  the 
leopard's  head  and  the  inscription  in  black  let 
ter.  The  Warden  had  evidently  availed  him 
self  of  one  of  the  chief  bachelor  sources  of  com 
fort.  Redclyffe,  whose  destiny  had  hitherto, 
and  up  to  a  very  recent  period,  been  to  pass  a 
feverishly  active  life,  was  greatly  impressed  by 
all  these  tokens  of  learned  ease,  —  a  degree  of 
self-indulgence  combined  with  duties  enough  to 
quiet  an  otherwise  uneasy  conscience,  —  by  the 
consideration  that  this  pensioner  acted  a  good 
part  in  a  world  where  no  one  is  entitled  to  be 
an  unprofitable  laborer.  He  thought  within 
himself,  that  his  prospects  in  his  own  galvanized 
country,  that  seemed  to  him,  a  few  years  since, 
to  offer  such  a  career  for  an  adventurous  young 
man,  conscious  of  motive  power,  had  nothing 
197 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

so  enticing  as  such  a  nook  as  this,  —  a  quiet 
recess  of  unchangeable  old  time,  around  which 
the  turbulent  tide  now  eddied  and  rushed,  but 
could  not  disturb  it.  Here,  to  be  sure,  hope, 
love,  ambition,  came  not,  progress  came  not ; 
but  here  was  what,  just  now,  the  early  wearied 
American  could  appreciate  better  than  aught 
else,  —  here  was  rest. 

The  fantasy  took  Edward  to  imitate  the  use 
ful  labors  of  the  learned  Warden,  and  to  make 
trial  whether  his  own  classical  condition  —  the 
results  of  Doctor  Grim's  tuition,  and  subse 
quently  that  of  an  American  College  —  had  ut 
terly  deserted  him,  by  attempting  a  translation 
of  a  few  verses  of  Yankee  Doodle  ;  and  he  was 
making  hopeful  progress  when  the  Warden 
came  in  fresh  and  rosy  from  a  morning's  ride 
in  a  keen  east  wind.  He  shook  hands  heartily 
with  his  guest,  and,  though  by  no  means  frigid 
at  their  former  interview,  seemed  to  have  de 
veloped  at  once  into  a  kindlier  man,  now  that 
he  had  suffered  the  stranger  to  cross  his  thresh 
old,  and  had  thus  made  himself  responsible  for 
his  comfort. 

"  I  shall  take  it  greatly  amiss,"  said  he,  "  if 
you  do  not  pick  up  fast  under  my  roof,  and 
gather  a  little  English  ruddiness,  moreover,  in 
the  walks  and  rides  that  I  mean  to  take  you. 
Your  countrymen,  as  I  saw  them,  are  a  sallow 
set ;  but  I  think  you  must  have  English  blood 
198 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

enough  in  your  veins  to  eke  out  a  ruddy  tint, 
with  the  help  of  good  English  beef  and  ale,  and 
daily  draughts  of  wholesome  light  and  air." 

"  My  cheeks  would  not  have  been  so  very 
pale/'  said  Edward,  laughing,  "  if  an  English 
shot  had  not  deprived  me  of  a  good  deal  of  my 
American  blood." 

"  Only  follow  my  guidance,"  said  the  War 
den,  "  and  I  assure  you  you  shall  have  back 
whatever  blood  we  have  deprived  you  of,  to 
gether  with  an  addition.  It  is  now  luncheon 
time,  and  we  will  begin  the  process  of  replen 
ishing  your  veins." 

So  they  went  into  a  refectory,  where  were 
spread  upon  the  board  what  might  have  seemed 
a  goodly  dinner  to  most  Americans ;  though 
for  this  Englishman  it  was  but  a  by-incident,  a 
slight  refreshment,  to  enable  him  to  pass  the 
midway  stage  of  life.  It  is  an  excellent  thing 
to  see  the  faith  of  a  hearty  Englishman  in  his 
own  stomach,  and  how  well  that  kindly  organ 
repays  his  trust ;  with  what  devout  assimilation 
he  takes  to  himself  his  kindred  beef,  loving  it, 
believing  in  it,  making  a  good  use  of  it,  and 
without  any  qualms  of  conscience  or  prescience 
as  to  the  result.  They  surely  eat  twice  as  much 
as  we ;  and  probably  because  of  their  undoubted 
faith  it  never  does  them  any  harm.  Dyspepsia 
is  merely  a  superstition  with  us.  If  we  could 
cease  to  believe  in  its  existence,  it  would  exist 
199 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

no  more.  Redclyffe,  eating  little  himself,  his 
wound  compelling  him  to  be  cautious  as  to  his 
diet,  was  secretly  delighted  to  see  what  sweets 
the  Warden  found  in  a  cold  round  of  beef,  in  a 
pigeon  pie,  and  a  cut  or  two  of  Yorkshire  ham ; 
not  that  he  was  ravenous,  but  that  his  stomach 
was  so  healthy. 

"  You  eat  little,  my  friend,"  said  the  Warden, 
pouring  out  a  glass  of  sherry  for  Redclyffe,  and 
another  for  himself.  "  But  you  are  right,  in 
such  a  predicament  as  yours.  Spare  your  stom 
ach  while  you  are  weakly,  and  it  will  help  you 
when  you  are  strong.  This,  now,  is  the  most 
enjoyable  meal  of  the  day  with  me.  You  will 
not  see  me  play  such  a  knife  and  fork  at  din 
ner;  though  there  too,  especially  if  I  have  rid 
den  out  in  the  afternoon,  I  do  pretty  well. 
But,  come  now,  if  (like  most  of  your  country 
men,  as  I  have  heard)  you  are  a  lover  of  the 
weed,  I  can  offer  you  some  as  delicate  Latakia 
as  you  are  likely  to  find  in  England." 

"  I  lack  that  claim  upon  your  kindness,  I  am 
sorry  to  say,"  replied  Redclyffe.  "  I  am  not  a 
good  smoker,  though  I  have  occasionally  taken 
a  cigar  at  need." 

"  Well,  when  you  find  yourself  growing  old, 
and  especially  if  you  chance  to  be  a  bachelor,  I 
advise  you  to  cultivate  the  habit,"  said  the 
Warden.  "  A  wife  is  the  only  real  obstacle  or 
objection  to  a  pipe  ;  they  can  seldom  be  thor- 
200 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

oughly  reconciled,  and  therefore  it  is  well  for  a 
man  to  consider,  beforehand,  which  of  the  two 
he  can  best  dispense  with.  I  know  not  how  it 
might  have  been  once,  had  the  conflicting  claim 
of  these  two  rivals  ever  been  fairly  presented  to 
me ;  but  I  now  should  be  at  no  loss  to  choose 
the  pipe." 

They  returned  to  the  study ;  and  while  the 
Warden  took  his  pipe,  Redclyffe,  considering 
that,  as  the  guest  of  this  hospitable  Englishman, 
he  had  no  right  to  continue  a  stranger,  thought 
it  fit  to  make  known  to  him  who  he  was,  and 
his  condition,  plans,  and  purposes.  He  repre 
sented  himself  as  having  been  liberally  educated, 
bred  to  the  law,  but  (to  his  misfortune)  having 
turned  aside  from  that  profession  to  engage  in 
politics.  In  this  pursuit,  indeed,  his  succes? 
wore  a  flattering  outside  ;  for  he  had  become  dis 
tinguished,  and,  though  so  young,  a  leader,  lo 
cally  at  least,  in  the  party  which  he  had  adopted. 
He  had  been,  for  a  biennial  term,  a  member  of 
Congress,  after  winning  some  distinction  in  the 
legislature  of  his  native  State  ;  but  some  one  of 
those  fitful  changes  to  which  American  politics 
are  peculiarly  liable  had  thrown  him  out,  in  his 
candidacy  for  his  second  term  ;  and  the  virulence 
of  party  animosity,  the  abusiveness  of  the  press, 
had  acted  so  much  upon  a  disposition  naturally 
somewhat  too  sensitive  for  the  career  which  he 
had  undertaken,  that  he  had  resolved,  being  now 

201 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

freed  from  legislative  cares,  to  seize  the  oppor 
tunity  for  a  visit  to  England,  whither  he  was 
drawn  by  feelings  which  every  educated  and  im 
pressible  American  feels,  in  a  degree  scarcely 
conceivable  by  the  English  themselves.  And 
being  here  (but  he  had  already  too  much  expe 
rience  of  English  self-sufficiency  to  confess  so 
much),  he  began  to  feel  the  deep  yearning  which 
a  sensitive  American  —  his  mind  full  of  English 
thoughts,  his  imagination  of  English  poetry,  his 
heart  of  English  character  and  sentiment —  can 
not  fail  to  be  influenced  by,  —  the  yearning  of 
the  blood  within  his  veins  for  that  from  which 
it  has  been  estranged ;  the  half-fanciful  regret 
that  he  should  ever  have  been  separated  from 
these  woods,  these  fields,  these  natural  features 
of  scenery,  to  which  his  nature  was  moulded, 
from  the  men  who  are  still  so  like  himself,  from 
these  habits  of  life  and  thought  which  (though 
he  may  not  have  known  them  for  two  centu 
ries)  he  still  perceives  to  have  remained  in  some 
mysterious  way  latent  in  the  depths  of  his  char 
acter,  and  soon  to  be  reassumed,  not  as  a  for 
eigner  would  do  it,  but  like  habits  native  to  him, 
and  only  suspended  for  a  season. 

This  had  been  Redclyffe's  state  of  feeling  ever 
since  he  landed  in  England,  and  every  day 
seemed  to  make  him  more  at  home ;  so  that  it 
seemed  as  if  he  were  gradually  awakening  to  a 
former  reality. 

202 


CHAPTER  XV 

A  PER  lunch  the  Warden  showed  a  good 
degree  of  kind  anxiety  about  his  guest, 
and  ensconced  him  in  a  most  comfort 
able  chair  in  his  study,  where  he  gave  him  his 
choice  of  books  old  and  new,  and  was  somewhat 
surprised,  as  well  as  amused,  to  see  that  Red- 
clyffe  seemed  most  attracted  towards  a  depart 
ment  of  the  library  filled  with  books  of  English 
antiquities,  and  genealogies,  and  heraldry ;  the 
two  latter,  indeed,  having  the  preference  over  the 
others. 

"  This  is  very  remarkable,"  said  he,  smiling. 
"  By  what  right  or  reason,  by  what  logic  of 
character,  can  you,  a  democrat,  renouncing  all 
advantages  of  birth, —  neither  priding  yourself 
on  family,  nor  seeking  to  found  one,  —  how 
therefore  can  you  care  for  genealogies,  or  for 
this  fantastic  science  of  heraldry  ?  Having  no 
antiquities,  being  a  people  just  made,  how  can 
you  care  for  them  ? " 

"  My  dear  sir,"  said  Redclyffe,  "  I  doubt 
whether  the  most  devoted  antiquarian  in  Eng 
land  ever  cares  to  search  for  an  old  thing  merely 
because  it  is  old,  as  any  American  just  landed 
on  your  shores  would  do.  Age  is  our  novelty  ; 
203 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

therefore  it  attracts  and  absorbs  us.  And  as  for 
genealogies,  I  know  not  what  necessary  repul 
sion  there  may  be  between  it  and  democracy. 
A  line  of  respectable  connections,  being  the 
harder  to  preserve  where  there  is  nothing  in  the 
laws  to  defend  it,  is  therefore  the  more  precious 
when  we  have  it  really  to  boast  of." 

"  True,"  said  the  Warden,  "  when  a  race 
keeps  itself  distinguished  among  the  grimy  order 
of  your  commonalty,  all  with  equal  legal  rights 
to  place  and  eminence  as  itself,  it  must  needs  be 
because  there  is  a  force  and  efficacy  in  the  blood. 
I  doubt  not,"  he  said,  looking  with  the  free  ap 
proval  of  an  elder  man  at  the  young  man's  finely 
developed  face  and  graceful  form,  —  "I  doubt 
not  that  you  can  look  back  upon  a  line  of  an 
cestry,  always  shining  out  from  the  surrounding 
obscurity  of  the  mob." 

RedclyrTe,  though  ashamed  of  himself,  could 
not  but  feel  a  paltry  confusion  and  embarrass 
ment,  as  he  thought  of  his  unknown  origin,  and 
his  advent  from  the  almshouse  ;  coming  out  of 
that  squalid  darkness  as  if  he  were  a  thing  that 
had  had  a  spontaneous  birth  out  of  poverty, 
meanness,  petty  crime  ;  and  here  in  ancestral 
England,  he  felt  more  keenly  than  ever  before 
what  was  his  misfortune. 

"I  must  not  let  you  lie  under  this  impres 
sion,"  said  he  manfully  to  the  Warden.  "  J 
have  no  ancestry  ;  at  the  very  first  step  my 
204 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

origin  is  lost  in  impenetrable  obscurity.  I  only 
know  that  but  for  the  aid  of  a  kind  friend  —  on 
whose  benevolence  I  seem  to  have  had  no  claim 
whatever  —  my  life  would  probably  have  been 
poor,  mean,  unenlightened." 

"Well,  well,"  said  the  kind  Warden,— 
hardly  quite  feeling,  however,  the  noble  senti 
ment  which  he  expressed,  —  "  it  is  better  to  be 
the  first  noble  illustrator  of  a  name  than  even 
the  worthy  heir  of  a  name  that  has  been  noble 
and  famous  for  a  thousand  years.  The  highest 
pride  of  some  of  our  peers,  who  Rave  won  their 
rank  by  their  own  force,  has  been  to  point  to 
the  cottage  whence  they  sprung.  Your  poster 
ity,  at  all  events,  will  have  the  advantage  of  you, 
—  they  will  know  their  ancestor." 

Redclyffe  sighed,  for  there  was  truly  a  great 
deal  of  the  foolish  yearning  for  a  connection 
with  the  past  about  him  ;  his  imagination  had 
taken  this  turn,  and  the  very  circumstances-  of 
his  obscure  birth  gave  it  a  field  to  exercise  it 
self. 

"  I  advise  you,"  said  the  Warden,  by  way  of 
changing  the  conversation,  "  to  look  over  the 
excellent  history  of  the  county  which  you  are 
now  in.  There  is  no  reading  better,  to  my 
mind,  than  these  county  histories  ;  though 
doubtless  a  stranger  would  hardly  feel  so  much 
interest  in  them  as  one  whose  progenitors,  male 
or  female,  have  strewn  their  dust  over  the  whole 
205 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

field  of  which  the  history  treats.  This  history 
is  a  fine  specimen  of  the  kind." 

The  work  to  which  RedclyrTe's  attention  was 
thus  drawn  was  in  two  large  folio  volumes,  pub 
lished  about  thirty  years  before,  bound  in  calf 
by  some  famous  artist  in  that  line,  illustrated 
with  portraits  and  views  of  ruined  castles, 
churches,  cathedrals,  the  seats  of  nobility  and 
gentry ;  Roman,  British,  and  Saxon  remains, 
painted  windows,  oak  carvings,  and  so  forth. 
And  as  for  its  contents,  the  author  ascended  for 
the  history  of  the  county  as  far  as  into  the  pre- 
Roman  ages,  before  Caesar  had  ever  heard  of 
Britain  ;  and  brought  it  down,  an  ever  swelling 
and  increasing  tale,  to  his  own  days ;  inclu 
sive  of  the  separate  histories,  and  pedigrees, 
and  hereditary  legends,  and  incidents,  of  all  the 
principal  families.  In  this  latter  branch  of  in 
formation,  indeed,  the  work  seemed  particu 
larly  full,  and  contained  every  incident  that 
i  would  have  worked  well  into  historical  ro 
mance. 

"  Aye,  aye,"  said  the  Warden,  laughing  at 
some  strange  incident  of  this  sort  which  Red- 
clyffe  read  out  to  him.  "  My  old  friend  Gibber, 
the  learned  author  of  this  work  (he  has  been 
dead  this  score  of  years,  so  he  will  not  mind  my 
saying  it),  had  a  little  too  much  the  habit  of 
seeking  his  authorities  in  the  cottage  chimney 
corners.  I  mean  that  an  old  woman's  tale  was 
206 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

just  about  as  acceptable  to  him  as  a  recorded 
fact ;  and  to  say  the  truth,  they  are  really  apt  to 
have  ten  times  the  life  in  them." 

RedclyfFe  saw  in  the  volume  a  full  account  of 
the  founding  of  the  Hospital,  its  regulations  and 
purposes,  its  edifices  ;  all  of  which  he  reserved 
for  future  reading,  being  for  the  present  more 
attracted  by  the  mouldy  gossip  of  family  anec 
dotes  which  we  have  alluded  to.  Some  of  these, 
and  not  the  least  singular,  referred  to  the  an 
cient  family  which  had  founded  the  Hospital ; 
and  he  was  attracted  by  seeing  a  mention  of  a 
Bloody  Footstep,  which  reminded  him  of  the 
strange  old  story  which  good  Doctor  Grimshawe 
had  related  by  his  New  England  fireside,  in 
those  childish  days  when  Edward  dwelt  with 
him  by  the  graveyard.  On  reading  it,  however, 
he  found  that  the  English  legend,  if  such  it 
could  be  called,  was  far  less  full  and  explicit 
than  that  of  New  England.  Indeed,  it  assigned 
various  origins  to  the  Bloody  Footstep;  —  one 
being,  that  it  was  the  stamp  of  the  foot  of  the 
Saxon  thane,  who  fought  at  his  own  threshold 
against  the  assault  of  the  Norman  baron,  who 
seized  his  mansion  at  the  Conquest ;  another, 
that  it  was  the  imprint  of  a  fugitive  who  had 
sought  shelter  from  the  lady  of  the  house  dur 
ing  the  Wars  of  the  Roses,  and  was  dragged  out 
by  her  husband,  and  slain  on  the  doorstep ; 
still  another,  that  it  was  the  footstep  of  a  Protes- 
207 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

'tant  in  Bloody  Mary's  days,  who,  being  sent  to 
prison  by  the  squire  of  that  epoch,  had  lifted 
his  hands  to  Heaven,  and  stamped  his  foot,  in 
appeal  as  against  the  unjust  violence  with  which 
he  was  treated,  and  stamping  his  foot,  it  had 
left  the  bloody  mark.  It  was  hinted  too,  how 
ever,  that  another  version,  which  out  of  delicacy 
to  the  family  the  author  was  reluctant  to  state, 
assigned  the  origin  of  the  Bloody  Footstep  to 
so  late  a  period  as  the  wars  of  the  Parliament. 
And,  finally,  there  was  an  odious  rumor  that 
what  was  called  the  Bloody  Footstep  was  no 
thing  miraculous,  after  all,  but  most  probably  a 
natural  reddish  stain  in  the  stone  doorstep  ;  but 
against  this  heresy  the  excellent  Doctor  Gibber 
set  his  face  most  sturdily. 

The  original  legend  had  made  such  an  im 
pression  on  Redclyffe's  childish  fancy,  that  he 
became  strangely  interested  in  thus  discovering 
it,  or  something  remotely  like  it,  in  England, 
and  being  brought  by  such  unsought  means  to 
reside  so  near  it.  Curious  about  the  family  to 
which  it  had  occurred,  he  proceeded  to  examine 
its  records,  as  given  in  the  County  History. 
The  name  was  Redclyffe.  Like  most  English 
pedigrees,  there  was  an  obscurity  about  a  good 
many  of  the  earlier  links  ;  but  the  line  was  traced 
out  with  reasonable  definiteness  from  the  days 
of  Coeur  de  Lion,  and  there  was  said  to  be  a 
cross-legged  ancestor  in  the  village  church,  who 
208 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

(but  the  inscription  was  obliterated)  was  prob 
ably  a  Redclyffe,  and  had  fought  either  under 
the  Lion  Heart  or  in  the  Crusades.  It  was,  in 
subsequent  ages,  one  of  the  most  distinguished 
families,  though  there  had  been  turbulent  men 
in  all  those  turbulent  times,  hard  fighters.  In 
one  age,  a  barony  of  early  creation  seemed  to 
have  come  into  the  family,  and  had  been,  as  it 
were,  playing  bo-peep  with  the  race  for  several 
centuries.  Some  of  them  had  actually  assumed 
the  title  ;  others  had  given  it  up  for  lack  of 
sufficient  proof;  but  still  there  was  such  a  claim, 
and  up  to  the  time  at  which  this  County  His 
tory  was  written,  it  had  neither  been  made  out, 
nor  had  the  hope  of  doing  so  been  relinquished, 

"  Have  the  family,"  asked  Redclyffe  of  his 
host,  "  ever  yet  made  out  their  claim  to  this 
title,  which  has  so  long  been  playing  the  will- 
of-the-wisp  with  them  P  " 

"  No,  not  yet,"  said  the  Warden,  puffing 
out  a  volume  of  smoke  from  his  meerschaum, 
and  making  it  curl  up  to  the  ceiling.  "  Their 
claim  has  as  little  substance,  in  my  belief,  as 
yonder  vanishing  vapor  from  my  pipe.  But 
they  still  keep  up  their  delusion.  I  had  sup 
posed  that  the  claim  would  perish  with  the  last 
squire,  who  was  a  childless  man,  —  at  least, 
without  legitimate  heirs  ;  but  this  estate  passed 
to  one  whom  we  can  scarcely  call  an  English 
man,  he  being  a  Catholic,  the  descendant  of 
209 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

forefathers  who  have  lived  in  Italy  since  the 
time  of  George  the  Second,  and  who  is,  more 
over,  a  Catholic.  We  English  would  not  will 
ingly  see  an  ancestral  honor  in  the  possession 
of  such  a  man  !  " 

"  Is  there,  do  you  think,  a  prospect  of  his 
success  P  " 

"  I  have  heard  so,  but  hardly  believe  it,"  re 
plied  the  Warden.  "  I  remember,  some  dozen 
or  fifteen  years  ago,  it  was  given  out  that  some 
clue  had  been  found  to  the  only  piece  of  evi 
dence  that  was  wanting.  It  had  been  said  that 
there  was  an  emigration  to  your  own  country, 
above  a  hundred  years  ago,  and  on  account  of 
some  family  feud  the  true  heir  had  gone  thither 
and  never  returned.  Now,  the  point  was  to 
prove  the  extinction  of  this  branch  of  the  family. 
But,  excuse  me,  I  must  pay  an  official  visit  to 
my  charge  here.  Will  you  accompany  me,  or 
continue  to  pore  over  the  County  History  ?  " 

Redclyffe  felt  enough  of  the  elasticity  of  con 
valescence  to  be  desirous  of  accompanying  the 
Warden ;  and  they  accordingly  crossed  the  en 
closed  quadrangle  to  the  entrance  of  the  Hos 
pital  portion  of  the  large  and  intricate  structure. 
It  was  a  building  of  the  early  Elizabethan  age, 
a  plaster  and  timber  structure,  like  many  houses 
of  that  period  and  much  earlier.1  Around  this 
court  stood  the  building,  with  the  date  1437 
cut  on  the  front.  On  each  side,  a  row  of  ga- 
210 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

bles  looked  upon  the  enclosed  space,  most  ven 
erable  old  gables,  with  heavy  mullioned  win 
dows  filled  with  little  diamond  panes  of  glass, 
and  opening  on  lattices.  On  two  sides  there 
was  a  cloistered  walk,  under  echoing  arches,  and 
in  the  midst  a  spacious  lawn  of  the  greenest 
and  loveliest  grass,  such  as  England  only  can 
show,  and  which,  there,  is  of  perennial  verdure 
and  beauty.  In  the  midst  stood  a  stone  statue 
of  a  venerable  man,  wrought  in  the  best  of  me 
diaeval  sculpture,  with  robe  and  ruff,  and  tunic 
and  venerable  beard,  resting  on  a  staff,  and 
holding  what  looked  like  a  clasped  book  in  his 
hand.  The  English  atmosphere,  together  with 
the  coal  smoke,  settling  down  in  the  space  of 
centuries  from  the  chimneys  of  the  Hospital, 
had  roughened  and  blackened  this  venerable 
piece  of  sculpture,  enclosing  it  as  it  were  in  a 
superficies  of  decay ;  but  still  (and  perhaps  the 
more  from  these  tokens  of  having  stood  so  long 
among  men)  the  statue  had  an  aspect  of  vener 
able  life,  and  of  connection  with  human  life, 
that  made  it  strongly  impressive. 

"  This  is  the  effigy  of  Sir  Edward  Redclyffe, 
the  founder  of  the  Hospital,"  said  the  Warden. 
"  He  is  a  most  peaceful  and  venerable  old  gen 
tleman  in  his  attire  and  aspect,  as  you  see;  but 
he  was  a  fierce  old  fellow  in  his  day,  and  is 
said  to  have  founded  the  Hospital  as  a  means 
of  appeasing  Heaven  for  some  particular  deed 

211 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

of  blood,  which  he  had  imposed  upon  his  con* 
science  in  the  War  of  the  Roses." 

"  Yes,"  said  Redclyffe,  "  I  have  just  read  in 
the  County  History  that  the  Bloody  Footstep 
was  said  to  have  been  imprinted  in  his  time. 
But  what  is  that  thing  which  he  holds  in  his 
hand?" 

"  It  is  a  famous  heirloom  of  the  Redclyffes," 
said  the  Warden,  "  on  the  possession  of  which 
(as  long  as  they  did  possess  it)  they  prided 
themselves,  it  is  said,  more  than  on  their  an 
cient  manor  house.  It  was  a  Saxon  ornament, 
which  a  certain  ancestor  was  said  to  have  had 
from  Harold,  the  old  Saxon  king ;  but  if  there 
ever  was  any  such  article,  it  has  been  missing 
from  the  family  mansion  for  two  or  three  hun 
dred  years.  There  is  not  known  to  be  an  an 
tique  relic  of  that  description  now  in  existence." 

"I  remember  having  seen  such  an  article, — 
yes,  precisely  of  that  shape,"  —  observed  Red- 
clyffe,  "  in  the  possession  of  a  very  dear  old 
friend  of  mine,  when  I  was  a  boy." 

"  What,  in  America  ? "  exclaimed  the  War 
den.  "  That  is  very  remarkable.  The  time 
of  its  being  missed  coincides  well  enough  with 
that  of  the  early  settlement  of  New  England. 
Some  Puritan,  before  his  departure,  may  have 
thought  himself  doing  God  service  by  filching 
the  old  golden  gewgaw  from  the  Cavalier  ;  for 
it  was  said  to  be  fine,  ductile  gold." 
212 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

The  circumstances  struck  Redclyffe  with  a 
pleasant  wonder  ;  for,  indeed,  the  old  statue 
held  the  closest  possible  imitation,  in  marble, 
of  that  strange  old  glitter  of  gold  which  he  him 
self  had  so  often  played  with  in  the  Doctor's 
study  ; 2  so  identical,  that  he  could  have  fancied 
that  he  saw  the  very  thing,  changed  from  metal 
into  stone,  even  with  its  bruises  and  other  cas 
ual  marks  in  it.  As  he  looked  at  the  old  statue, 
his  imagination  played  with  it,  and  his  naturally 
great  impressibility  half  made  him  imagine  that 
the  old  face  looked  at  him  with  a  keen,  subtile, 
wary  glance,  as  if  acknowledging  that  it  held 
some  secret,  but  at  the  same  time  defying  him 
to  find  it  out.  And  then  again  came  that  vi 
sionary  feeling  that  had  so  often  swept  over 
him  since  he  had  been  an  inmate  of  the  Hos 
pital. 

All  over  the  interior  part  of  the  building  was 
carved  in  stone  the  leopard's  head,  with  weari 
some  iteration  ;  as  if  the  founder  were  anxious 
to  imprint  his  device  so  numerously,  lest  — 
when  he  produced  this  edifice  as  his  remunera 
tion  to  Eternal  Justice  for  many  sins  —  the  Om 
niscient  Eye  should  fail  to  be  reminded  that  Sir 
Edward  Redclyffe  had  done  it.  But,  at  all 
events,  it  seemed  to  Redclyffe  that  the  ancient 
knight  had  purposed  a  good  thing,  and  in  a 
measurable  degree  had  effected  it ;  for  here 
stood  the  venerable  edifice  securely  founded, 
213 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

bearing  the  moss  of  four  hundred  years  upon 
it ;  and  though  wars,  and  change  of  dynasties, 
and  religious  change,  had  swept  around  it,  with 
seemingly  destructive  potency,  yet  here  had  the 
lodging,  the  food,  the  monastic  privileges  of  the 
brethren  been  held  secure,  and  were  unchanged 
by  all  the  altering  manners  of  the  age.  The  old 
fellow,  somehow  or  other,  seemed  to  have  struck 
upon  an  everlasting  rock,  and  founded  his  pom 
pous  charity  there. 

They  entered  an  arched  door  on  the  left  of 
the  quadrangle,  and  found  themselves  in  a  dark 
old  hall  with  oaken  beams ;  to  say  the  truth,  it 
was  a  barnlike  sort  of  enclosure,  and  was  now 
used  as  a  sort  of  rubbish  place  for  the  Hospi 
tal,  where  they  stored  away  old  furniture,  and 
where  carpenter's  work  might  be  done.  And 
yet,  as  the  Warden  assured  Redclyffe,  it  was 
once  a  hall  of  state,  hung  with  tapestry,  car 
peted,  for  aught  he  knew,  with  cloth  of  gold, 
and  set  with  rich  furniture,  and  a  groaning  board 
in  the  midst.  Here,  the  hereditary  patron  of 
the  Hospital  had  once  entertained  King  James 
the  First,  who  made  a  Latin  speech  on  the  oc 
casion,  a  copy  of  which  was  still  preserved  in  the 
archives.  On  the  rafters  of  this  old  hall  there 
were  cobwebs  in  such  abundance  that  Red- 
clyffe  could  not  but  reflect  on  the  joy  which  old 
Doctor  Grimshawe  would  have  had  in  seeing 
them,  and  the  health  to  the  human  race  which 
214 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

he  would  have  hoped  to  collect  and  distil  from 
them. 

From  this  great,  antique  room  they  crossed 
the  quadrangle  and  entered  the  kitchen  of  the 
establishment.  A  hospitable  fire  was  burning 
there,  and  there  seemed  to  be  a  great  variety  of 
messes  cooking ;  and  the  Warden  explained  to 
Redclyffe  that  there  was  no  general  table  in  the 
Hospital ;  but  the  brethren,  at  their  own  will 
and  pleasure,  either  formed  themselves  into  com 
panies  or  messes,  of  any  convenient  size,  or  en 
joyed  a  solitary  meal  by  themselves,  each  in  their 
own  apartments.  There  was  a  goodly  choice  of 
simple  but  good  and  enjoyable  food,  and  a  suf 
ficient  supply  of  potent  ale,  brewed  in  the  vats 
of  the  Hospital,  which,  among  its  other  praise 
worthy  characteristics,  was  famous  for  this  ;  hav 
ing  at  some  epoch  presumed  to  vie  with  the 
famous  ale  of  Trinity,  in  Cambridge,  and  the 
Archdeacon  of  Oxford,  —  these  having  come 
down  to  the  Hospital  from  a  private  receipt  of 
Sir  Edward's  butler,  which  was  now  lost  in  the 
Redclyffe  family ;  nor  would  the  ungrateful 
Hospital  give  up  its  secret  even  out  of  loyalty 
to  its  founder. 

"  I  would  use  my  influence  with  the  brewer," 
said  the  Warden,  on  communicating  this  little 
fact  to  Redclyffe  ;  "  but  the  present  man  — 
now  owner  of  the  estate  — is  not  worthy  to  have 
good  ale  brewed  in  his  house ;  having  himself 
215 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

no  taste  for  anything  but  Italian  wines,  wretched 
fellow  that  he  is  !  He  might  make  himself  an 
Englishman  if  he  would  take  heartily  to  our 
ale;  and  with  that  end  in  view,  I  should  be  glad 
to  give  it  him." 

The  kitchen  fire  blazed  warmly,  as  we  have 
said,  and  roast  and  stewed  and  boiled  were  in 
process  of  cooking,  producing  a  pleasant  fume, 
while  great  heaps  of  wheaten  loaves  were  smok 
ing  hot  from  the  ovens,  and  the  master  cook 
and  his  subordinates  were  in  fume  and  hiss,  like 
beings  that  were  of  a  fiery  element,  and,  though 
irritable  and  scorching,  yet  were  happier  here 
than  they  could  have  been  in  any  other  situa 
tion.  The  Warden  seemed  to  have  an  especial 
interest  and  delight  in  this  department  of  the 
Hospital,  and  spoke  apart  to  the  head  cook  on 
the  subject  (as  Redclyfte  surmised  from  what  he 
overheard)  of  some  especial  delicacy  for  his  own 
table  that  day. 

"  This  kitchen  is  a  genial  place,"  said  he  to 
Redclyffe,  as  they  retired.  "In  the  evening, 
after  the  cooks  have  done  their  work,  the  breth 
ren  have  liberty  to  use  it  as  a  sort  of  common 
room,  and  to  sit  here  over  their  ale  till  a  reason 
able  bedtime.  It  would  interest  you  much  to 
make  one  at  such  a  party  ;  for  they  have  had  a 
varied  experience  in  life,  each  one  for  himself, 
and  it  would  be  strange  to  hear  the  varied  roads 
by  which  they  have  come  hither." 
216 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

"Yes,"  replied  Redclyffe,  "and,  I  presume, 
not  one  of  them  ever  dreamed  of  coming  hither 
when  he  started  in  life.  The  only  one  with 
whom  I  am  acquainted  could  hardly  have  ex 
pected  it,  at  all  events." 

"  He  is  a  remarkable  man,  more  so  than  you 
may  have  had  an  opportunity  of  knowing,"  said 
the  Warden.  "  I  know  not  his  history,  for  he 
is  not  communicative  on  that  subject,  and  it  was 
only  necessary  for  him  to  make  out  his  proofs 
of  claim  to  the  charity  to  the  satisfaction  of  the 
Curators.  But  it  has  often  struck  me  that  there 
must  have  been  strange  and  striking  events  in 
his  life, —  though  how  it  could  have  been  with 
out  his  attracting  attention  and  being  known,  I 
cannot  say.  I  have  myself  often  received  good 
counsel  from  him  in  the  conduct  of  the  Hospi 
tal,  and  the  present  owner  of  the  Hall  seems  to 
have  taken  him  for  his  counsellor  and  confidant, 
being  himself  strange  to  English  affairs  and  life." 

"  I  should  like  to  call  on  him,  as  a  matter 
of  course  rather  than  courtesy,"  observed  Red- 
clyffe,  "  and  thank  him  for  his  great  kindness." 

They  accordingly  ascended  the  dark  oaken 
staircase  with  its  black  balustrade,  and  ap 
proached  the  old  man's  chamber,  the  door  of 
which  they  found  open,  and  in  the  blurred  look 
ing-glass  which  hung  deep  within  the  room 
Redclyffe  was  surprised  to  perceive  the  young 
face  of  a  woman,  who  seemed  to  be  arranging 
217 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

her  headgear,  as  women  are  always  doing.  It 
was  but  a  moment,  and  then  it  vanished  like  a 
vision. 

"  I  was  not  aware,"  he  said,  turning  to  the 
Warden,  "  that  there  was  a  feminine  side  to  this 
establishment." 

"  Nor  is  there,"  said  the  old  bachelor,  "  else 
it  would  not  have  held  together  so  many  ages 
as  it  has.  The  establishment  has  its  own  wise, 
monkish  regulations  ;  but  we  cannot  prevent 
the  fact,  that  some  of  the  brethren  may  have 
had  foolish  relations  with  the  other  sex  at  some 
previous  period  of  their  lives.  This  seems  to 
be  the  case  with  our  wise  old  friend  of  whom 
we  have  been  speaking,  —  whereby  he  doubtless 
became  both  wiser  and  sadder.  If  you  have 
seen  a  female  face  here,  it  is  that  of  a  relative 
who  resides  out  of  the  Hospital,  —  an  excellent 
young  lady,  I  believe,  who  has  charge  of  a 
school." 

While  he  was  speaking,  the  young  lady  in 
question  passed  out,  greeting  the  Warden  in  a 
cheerful,  respectful  way,  in  which  deference  to 
him  was  well  combined  with  a  sense  of  what 
was  due  to  herself. 

"  That,"  observed  the  Warden,  who  had  re 
turned  her  courtesy,  with  a  kindly  air  betwixt 
that  of  gentlemanly  courtesy  and  a  superior's 
acknowledgment,  —  "  that  is  the  relative  of  our 
old  friend;  a  young  person  —  a  gentlewoman, 
218 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

I  may  almost  call  her  —  who  teaches  a  little 
school  in  the  village  here,  and  keeps  her  guard 
ian's  heart  warm,  no  doubt,  with  her  presence. 
An  excellent  young  woman,  I  iio  believe,  and 
very  useful  and  faithful  in  her  station." 
219 


CHAPTER  XVI 

ON  entering  the  old  palmer's  apartment, 
they  found  him  looking  over  some 
ancient  papers,  yellow  and  crabbedly 
written,  and  on  one  of  them  a  large  old  seal, 
all  of  which  he  did  up  in  a  bundle  and  enclosed 
in  a  parchment  cover,  so  that,  before  they  were 
well  in  the  room,  the  documents  were  removed 
from  view. 

"  Those  papers  and  parchments  have  a  fine 
old  yellow  tint,  Colcord,"  said  the  Warden, 
"  very  satisfactory  to  an  antiquary." 

"  There  is  nothing  in  them,"  said  the  old 
man,  "  of  general  interest.  Some  old  papers 
they  are,  which  came  into  my  possession  by  in 
heritance,  and  some  of  them  relating  to  the  af 
fairs  of  a  friend  of  my  youth  ;  —  a  long  past 
time,  and  a  long  past  friend,"  added  he,  sighing. 

"  Here  is  a  new  friend,  at  all  events,"  said 
the  kindly  Warden,  wishing  to  cheer  the  old 
man,  "  who  feels  himself  greatly  indebted  to 
you  for  your  care." 

There   now  ensued  a  conversation  between 
the  three,  in  the  course  of  which  reference  was 
made  to  America,  and  the  Warden's  visit  there. 
220 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

cc  You  are  so  mobile,"  he  said,  "  you  change 
so  speedily,  that  I  suppose  there  are  few  exter 
nal  things  now  that  I  should  recognize.  The 
face  of  your  country  changes  like  one  of  your 
own  sheets  of  water,  under  the  influence  of  sun, 
cloud,  and  wind  ;  but  I  suppose  there  is  a  depth 
below  that  is  seldom  effectually  stirred.  It  is  a 
great  fault  of  the  country  that  its  sons  find  it 
impossible  to  feel  any  patriotism  for  it." 

"I  do  not  by  any  means  acknowledge  that  im 
possibility,"  responded  Redclyffe,  with  a  smile. 
"  I  certainly  feel  that  sentiment  very  strongly 
in  my  own  breast,  more  especially  since  I  have 
left  America  three  thousand  miles  behind  me." 

"  Yes,  it  is  only  the  feeling  of  self-assertion 
that  rises  against  the  self-complacency  of  the 
English,"  said  the  Warden.  "  Nothing  else  ; 
for  what  else  have  you  become  the  subject  of 
this  noble  weakness  of  patriotism  ?  You  cannot 
love  anything  beyond  the  soil  of  your  own  es 
tate  ;  or  in  your  case,  if  your  heart  is  very  large, 
you  may  possibly  take  in,  in  a  quiet  sort  of 
way,  the  whole  of  New  England.  What  more 
is  possible  ?  How  can  you  feel  a  heart's  love  for 
a  mere  political  arrangement,  like  your  Union  ? 
How  can  you  be  loyal,  where  personal  attach 
ment —  the  lofty  and  noble  and  unselfish  at 
tachment  of  a  subject  to  his  prince  —  is  out  of 
the  question  ?  where  your  sovereign  is  felt  to 
be  a  mere  man  like  yourselves,  whose  petty 

10  T  J 


221 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

struggles,  whose  ambition,  —  mean  before  it 
grew  to  be  audacious,  —  you  have  watched,  and 
know  him  to  be  just  the  same  now  as  yester 
day,  and  that  to-morrow  he  will  be  walking  un- 
honored  amongst  you  again  ?  Your  system  is 
too  bare  and  meagre  for  human  nature  to  love, 
or  to  endure  it  long.  These  stately  degrees  of 
society,  that  have  so  strong  a  hold  upon  us  in 
England,  are  not  to  be  done  away  with  so 
lightly  as  you  think.  Your  experiment  is  not 
yet  a  success  by  any  means  ;  and  you  will  live 
to  see  it  result  otherwise  than  you  think !  " 

"  It  is  natural  for  you  Englishmen  to  feel 
thus,"  said  Redclyffe ;  "  although,  ever  since  I 
set  my  foot  on  your  shores,  —  forgive  me,  but 
you  set  me  the  example  of  free  speech,  —  I  have 
had  a  feeling  of  coming  change  among  all  that 
you  look  upon  as  so  permanent,  so  everlast 
ing  ;  and  though  your  thoughts  dwell  fondly 
on  things  as  they  are  and  have  been,  there  is 
a  deep  destruction  somewhere  in  this  country, 
that  is  inevitably  impelling  it  in  the  path  of  my 
own.  But  I  care  not  for  this.  I  do  aver  that 
I  love  my  country,  that  I  am  proud  of  its  insti 
tutions,  that  I  have  a  feeling  unknown,  proba 
bly,  to  any  but  a  republican,  but  which  is  the 
proudest  thing  in  me,  that  there  is  no  man  above 
me,  —  for  my  ruler  is  only  myself,  in  the  person 
of  another,  whose  office  I  impose  upon  him, — 
nor  any  below  me.  If  you  would  understand 
222 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

me,  I  would  tell  you  of  the  shame  I  felt  when 
first,  on  setting  foot  in  this  country,  I  heard  a 
man  speaking  of  his  birth  as  giving  him  privi 
leges  ;  saw  him  looking  down  on  laboring  men, 
as  of  an  inferior  race.  And  what  I  can  never 
understand  is  the  pride  which  you  positively 
seem  to  feel  in  having  men  and  classes  of  men 
above  you,  born  to  privileges  which  you  can 
never  hope  to  share.  It  may  be  a  thing  to  be 
endured,  but  surely  not  one  to  be  absolutely 
proud  of.  And  yet  an  Englishman  is  so." 

"  Ah  !  I  see  we  lack  a  ground  to  meet  upon," 
said  the  Warden.  "  We  can  never  truly  under 
stand  each  other.  What  you  have  last  men 
tioned  is  one  of  our  inner  mysteries.  It  is  not 
a  thing  to  be  reasoned  about,  but  to  be  felt,  - 
to  be  born  within  one ;  and  I  uphold  it  to  be 
a  generous  sentiment,  and  good  for  the  human 
heart." 

"Forgive  me,  sir,"  said  Redclyffe,  "but  I 
would  rather  be  the  poorest  and  lowest  man  in 
America  than  have  that  sentiment." 

"  But  it  might  change  your  feeling,  perhaps," 
suggested  the  Warden,  "  if  you  were  one  of  the 
privileged  class." 

"  I  dare  not  say  that  it  would  not/'  said  Red- 
clyffe, "  for  I  know  I  have  a  thousand  weak 
nesses,  and  have  doubtless  as  many  more  that 
I  never  suspected  myself  of.  But  it  seems  to 
me  at  this  moment  impossible  that  I  should  ever 
223 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

have  such  an  ambition,  because  I  have  a  sense 
of  meanness  in  not  starting  fair,  in  beginning 
the  world  with  advantages  that  my  fellows  have 
not." 

"  Really  this  is  not  wise,"  said  the  Warden 
bluntly.  "  How  can  the  start  in  life  be  fair  for 
all  ?  Providence  arranges  it  otherwise.  Did 
you  yourself,  —  a  gentleman  evidently  by  birth 
and  education,  —  did  you  start  fair  in  the  race 
of  life  ? " 

Redclyffe  remembered  what  his  birth,  or 
rather  what  his  first  recollected  place  had  been, 
and  reddened. 

"  In  birth,  certainly,  I  had  no  advantages," 
said  he,  and  would  have  explained  further,  but 
was  kept  back  by  invincible  reluctance  ;  feeling 
that  the  bare  fact  of  his  origin  in  an  almshouse 
would  be  accepted,  while  all  the  inward  assur 
ances  and  imaginations  that  had  reconciled  him 
self  to  the  ugly  fact  would  go  for  nothing.  "  But 
there  were  advantages,  very  early  in  life,"  added 
he,  smiling,  "  which  perhaps  I  ought  to  have 
been  ashamed  to  avail  myself  of." 

"  An  old  cobwebby  library,  —  an  old  dwell 
ing  by  a  graveyard,  —  an  old  Doctor,  busied 
with  his  own  fantasies,  and  entangled  in  his  own 
cobwebs,  —  and  a  little  girl  for  a  playmate: 
these  were  things  that  you  might  lawfully  avail 
yourself  of,"  said  Colcord,  unheard  by  the  War 
den,  who,  thinking  the  conversation  had  lasted 
224 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

long  enough,  had  paid  a  slight  passing  courtesy 
to  the  old  man,  and  was  now  leaving  the  room. 
"  Do  you  remain  here  long  ?  "  he  added. 

"If  the  Warden's  hospitality  holds  out,"  said 
the  American,  "  I  shall  be  glad ;  for  the  place 
interests  me  greatly." 

"  No  wonder,"  replied  Colcord. 

"  And  wherefore  no  wonder  ? "  said  Red- 
clyffe,  impressed  with  the  idea  that  there  was 
something  peculiar  in  the  tone  of  the  old  man's 
remark. 

"  Because,"  returned  the  other  quietly,  "  it 
must  be  to  you  especially  interesting  to  see  an 
institution  of  this  kind,  whereby  one  man's  be 
nevolence  or  penitence  is  made  to  take  the  sub 
stance  and  durability  of  stone,  and  last  for  cen 
turies  ;  whereas,  in  America,  the  solemn  decrees 
and  resolutions  of  millions  melt  away  like 
vapor,  and  everything  shifts  like  the  pomp  of 
sunset  clouds  ;  though  it  may  be  as  pompous  as 
they.  Heaven  intended  the  past  as  a  founda 
tion  for  the  present,  to  keep  it  from  vibrating 
and  being  blown  away  with  every  breeze." 

"  But,"  said  Redclyffe,  "  I  would  not  see  in 
my  country  what  I  see  elsewhere,  —  the  Past 
hanging  like  a  millstone  round  a  country's 
neck,  or  incrusted  in  stony  layers  over  the  liv 
ing  form  ;  so  that,  to  all  intents  and  purposes, 
it  is  dead." 

"  Well,"  said  Colcord,  "  we  are  only  talking 
225 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

of  the  Hospital.  You  will  find  no  more  inter 
esting  place  anywhere.  Stay  amongst  us  ;  this 
is  the  very  heart  of  England,  and  if  you  wish  to 
know  the  fatherland,  —  the  place  whence  you 
sprung, —  this  is  the  very  spot !  " 

Again  Redclyffe  was  struck  with  the  impres 
sion  that  there  was  something  marked,  some 
thing  individually  addressed  to  himself,  in  the 
old  man's  words  ;  at  any  rate,  it  appealed  to 
that  primal  imaginative  vein  in  him  which  had 
so  often,  in  his  own  country,  allowed  itself  to 
dream  over  the  possibilities  of  his  birth.  He 
knew  that  the  feeling  was  a  vague  and  idle  one  ; 
but  yet,  just  at  this  time,  a  convalescent,  with  a 
little  play  moment  in  what  had  heretofore  been 
a  turbulent  life,  he  felt  an  inclination  to  follow 
out  this  dream,  and  let  it  sport  with  him,  and 
by  and  by  to  awake  to  realities,  refreshed  by  a 
season  of  unreality.  At  a  firmer  and  stronger 
period  of  his  life,  though  Redclyffe  might  have 
indulged  his  imagination  with  these  dreams,  yet 
he  would  not  have  let  them  interfere  with  his 
course  of  action  ;  but  having  come  hither  in  ut 
ter  weariness  of  active  life,  it  seemed  just  the 
thing  for  him  to  do,  — just  the  fool's  paradise 
for  him  to  be  in. 

"  Yes,"  repeated  the  old  man,  looking  keenly 
in  his  face,  "  you  will  not  leave  us  yet." 

Redclyffe  returned  through  the  quadrangle 
to  the  Warden's  house ;  and  there  were  the 
226 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

brethren,  sitting  on  benches,  loitering  in  the 
sun,  which,  though  warm  for  England,  seemed 
scarcely  enough  to  keep  these  old  people  warm, 
even  with  their  cloth  robes.  They  did  not  seem 
unhappy  ;  nor  yet  happy  ;  if  they  were  so,  it 
must  be  with  the  mere  bliss  of  existence,  a  sleepy 
sense  of  comfort,  and  quiet  dreaminess  about 
things  past,  leaving  out  the  things  to  come,  —  of 
which  there  was  nothing,  indeed,  in  their  future, 
save  one  day  after  another,  just  like  this,  with 
loaf  and  ale,  and  such  substantial  comforts,  and 
prayers,  and  idle  days  again,  gathering  by  the 
great  kitchen  fire,  and  at  last  a  day  when  they 
should  not  be  there,  but  some  other  old  men  in 
their  stead.  And  RedclyfFe  wondered  whether, 
in  the  extremity  of  age,  he  himself  would  like 
to  be  one  of  the  brethren  of  the  Leopard's  Head. 
The  old  men,  he  was  sorry  to  see,  did  not  seem 
very  genial  towards  one  another ;  in  fact,  there 
appeared  to  be  a  secret  enjoyment  of  one  an 
other's  infirmities,  wherefore  it  was  hard  to  tell, 
unless  that  each  individual  might  fancy  himself 
to  possess  an  advantage  over  his  fellow,  which 
he  mistook  for  a  positive  strength  ;  and  so  there 
was  sometimes  a  sardonic  smile,  when,  on  rising 
from  his  seat,  the  rheumatism  was  a  little  evident 
in  an  old  fellow's  joints;  or  when  the  palsy 
shook  another's  fingers  so  that  he  could  barelv 
fill  his  pipe  ;  or  when  a  cough,  the  gathered 
spasmodic  trouble  of  thirty  years,  fairly  con- 
227 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

vnlsed  another.  Then,  any  two  that  happened 
to  be  sitting  near  one  another  looked  into  each 
other's  cold  eyes,  and  whispered,  or  suggested 
merely  by  a  look  (for  they  were  bright  to  such 
perceptions),  "  The  old  fellow  will  not  out 
last  another  winter." 

Methinks  it  is  not  good  for  old  men  to  be 
much  together.  An  old  man  is  a  beautiful  ob 
ject  in  his  own  place,  in  the  midst  of  a  circle 
of  young  people,  going  down  in  various  gra 
dations  to  infancy,  and  all  looking  up  to  the 
patriarch  with  filial  reverence,  keeping  him  warm 
by  their  own  burning  youth  ;  giving  him  the 
freshness  of  their  thought  and  feeling,  with  such 
natural  influx  that  it  seems  as  if  it  grew  within 
his  heart ;  while  on  them  he  reacts  with  an  in 
fluence  that  sobers,  tempers,  keeps  them  down. 
His  wisdom,  very  probably,  is  of  no  great  ac 
count,  —  he  cannot  fit  to  any  new  state  of  things  ; 
but,  nevertheless,  it  works  its  effect.  In  such  a 
situation,  the  old  man  is  kind  and  genial,  mel 
low,  more  gentle  and  generous  and  wider-minded 
than  ever  before.  But  if  left  to  himself,  or 
wholly  to  the  society  of  his  contemporaries,  the 
ice  gathers  about  his  heart,  his  hope  grows  tor 
pid,  his  love  —  having  nothing  of  his  own  blood 
to  develop  it  —  grows  cold;  he  becomes  selfish, 
when  he  has  nothing  in  the  present  or  the  future 
worth  caring  about  in  himself;  so  that,  instead 
of  a  beautiful  object,  he  is  an  ugly  one,  little, 
228 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

mean,  and  torpid.  I  suppose  one  chief  reason 
to  be,  that  unless  he  has  his  own  race  about 
him  he  doubts  of  anybody's  love,  he  feels  him 
self  a  stranger  in  the  world,  and  so  becomes 
unamiable. 

A  very  few  days  in  the  Warden's  hospitable 
mansion  produced  an  excellent  effect  on  Red- 
clyffe's  frame  ;  his  constitution  being  naturally 
excellent,  and  a  flow  of  cheerful  spirits  contribut 
ing  much  to  restore  him  to  health,  especially  as 
the  abode  in  this  old  place,  which  would  prob 
ably  have  been  intolerably  dull  to  most  young 
Englishmen,  had  for  this  young  American  a 
charm  like  the  freshness  of  Paradise.  In  truth 
it  had  that  charm,  and  besides  it  another  intan 
gible,  evanescent,  perplexing  charm,  full  of  an 
airy  enjoyment,  as  if  he  had  been  here  before. 
What  could  it  be?  It  could  be  only  the  old, 
very  deepest,  inherent  nature,  which  the  Eng 
lishman,  his  progenitor,  carried  over  the  sea  with 
him,  nearly  two  hundred  years  before,  and  which 
had  lain  buried  all  that  time  under  heaps  of  new 
things,  new  customs,  new  institutions,  new  snows 
of  winter,  new  layers  of  forest  leaves,  until  it 
seemed  dead,  and  was  altogether  forgotten  as  if 
it  had  never  been ;  but,  now,  his  return  had 
seemed  to  dissolve  or  dig  away  all  this  incrusta 
tion,  and  the  old  English  nature  awoke  all  fresh, 
so  that  he  saw  the  green  grass,  the  hedge  rows, 
the  old  structures  and  old  manners,  the  old 
229 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

clouds,  the  old  raindrops,  with  a  recognition, 
and  yet  a  newness.  Redclyffe  had  never  been 
so  quietly  happy  as  now.  He  had,  as  it  were, 
the  quietude  of  the  old  man  about  him,  and  the 
freshness  of  his  own  still  youthful  years. 

The  Warden  was  evidently  very  favorably 
impressed  with  his  Transatlantic  guest,  and  he 
seemed  to  be  in  a  constant  state  of  surprise  to 
find  an  American  so  agreeable  a  kind  of  person. 

"  You  are  just  like  an  Englishman,"  he  some 
times  said.  "  Are  you  quite  sure  that  you  were 
not  born  on  this  side  of  the  water  ?  " 

This  is  said  to  be  the  highest  compliment 
that  an  Englishman  can  pay  to  an  American  ; 
and  doubtless  he  intends  it  as  such.  All  the 
praise  and  good  will  that  an  Englishman  ever 
awards  to  an  American  is  so  far  gratifying  to  the 
recipient,  that  it  is  meant  for  him  individually, 
and  is  not  to  be  put  down  in  the  slightest  de 
gree  to  the  score  of  any  regard  to  his  countrymen 
generally.  So  far  from  this,  if  an  Englishman 
were  to  meet  the  whole  thirty  millions  of  Amer 
icans,  and  find  each  individual  of  them  a  plea 
sant,  amiable,  well-meaning,  and  well-mannered 
sort  of  fellow,  he  would  acknowledge  this  hon 
estly  in  each  individual  case,  but  still  would  speak 
of  the  whole  nation  as  a  disagreeable  people. 

As  regards  RedclyrTe  being  precisely  like  an 
Englishman,  we  cannot  but  think  that  the  good 
Warden  was  mistaken.  No  doubt,  there  was  a 
230 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

common  ground ;  the  old  progenitor  (whose 
blood,  moreover,  was  mixed  with  a  hundred 
other  streams  equally  English)  was  still  there, 
under  this  young  man's  shape,  but  with  a  vast 
difference.  Climate,  sun,  cold,  heat,  soil,  insti 
tutions,  had  made  a  change  in  him  before  he  was 
born,  and  all  the  life  that  he  had  lived  since  (so 
unlike  any  that  he  could  have  lived  in  England) 
had  developed  it  more  strikingly.  In  manners, 
I  cannot  but  think  that  he  was  better  than  the 
generality  of  Englishmen,  and  different  from  the 
highest-mannered  men,  though  most  resembling 
them.  His  natural  sensitiveness,  a  tincture  of 
reserve,  had  been  counteracted  by  the  frank 
mixture  with  men  which  his  political  course  had 
made  necessary  ;  he  was  quicker  to  feel  what 
was  right  at  the  moment,  than  the  Englishman  ; 
more  alive  ;  he  had  a  finer  grain  ;  his  look  was 
more  aristocratic  than  that  of  a  thousand  Eng 
lishmen  of  good  birth  and  breeding ;  he  had  a 
faculty  of  assimilating  himself  to  new  manners, 
which,  being  his  most  un-English  trait,  was  what 
perhaps  chiefly  made  the  Warden  think  him  so 
like  an  Englishman.  When  an  Englishman  is  a 
gentleman,  to  be  sure,  it  is  as  deep  in  him  as  the 
marrow  of  his  bones,  and  the  deeper  you  know 
him,  the  more  you  are  aware  of  it,  and  that 
generation  after  generation  has  contributed  to 
develop  and  perfect  these  unpretending  man 
ners,  which,  at  first,  may  have  failed  to  impress 
231 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

you,  under  his  plain,  almost  homely  exterior. 
An  American  often  gets  as  good  a  surface  of  man 
ners,  in  his  own  progress  from  youth,  through 
the  wear  and  attrition  of  a  successful  life,  to  some 
high  station  in  middle  age ;  whereas  a  plebeian 
Englishman,  who  rises  to  eminent  station,  never 
does  credit  to  it  by  his  manners.  Often  you 
would  not  know  the  American  ambassador  from 
a  duke.  This  is  often  merely  external ;  but  in 
Redclyffe,  having  delicate  original  traits  in  his 
character,  it  was  something  more  ;  and  we  are 
bold  to  say,  when  our  countrymen  are  developed, 
or  any  one  class  of  them,  as  they  ought  to  be, 
they  will  show  finer  traits  than  have  yet  been 
seen.  We  have  more  delicate  and  quicker  sen 
sibilities,  nerves  more  easily  impressed  ;  and 
these  are  surely  requisites  for  perfect  manners  ; 
and,  moreover,  the  courtesy  that  proceeds  on  the 
ground  of  perfect  equality  is  better  than  that 
which  is  a  gracious  and  benignant  condescension, 
—  as  is  the  case  with  the  manners  of  the  aristo 
cracy  of  England. 

An  American,  be  it  said,  seldom  turns  his 
best  side  outermost  abroad  ;  and  an  observer, 
who  has  had  much  opportunity  of  seeing  the 
figure  which  they  make,  in  a  foreign  country, 
does  not  so  much  wonder  that  there  should  be 
severe  criticism  on  their  manners  as  a  people. 
I  know  not  exactly  why,  but  all  our  imputed 
peculiarities  —  our  nasal  pronunciation,  our  un- 
232 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

graceful  idioms,  our  forthputtingness,  our  un 
couth  lack  of  courtesy  —  do  really  seem  to 
exist  on  a  foreign  shore  ;  and  even,  perhaps,  to 
be  heightened  of  malice  prepense.  The  cold, 
unbelieving  eye  of  Englishmen,  expectant  of 
solecisms  in  manners,  contributes  to  produce 
the  result  which  it  looks  for.  Then  the  feeling 
of  hostility  and  defiance  in  the  American  must 
be  allowed  for ;  and  partly,  too,  the  real  exist 
ence  of  a  different  code  of  manners,  founded 
on,  and  arising  from,  different  institutions ;  and 
also  certain  national  peculiarities,  which  may  be 
intrinsically  as  good  as  English  peculiarities  ; 
but  being  different,  and  yet  the  whole  result 
being  just  too  nearly  alike,  and,  moreover,  the 
English  manners  having  the  prestige  of  long  es 
tablishment,  and  furthermore  our  own  manners 
being  in  a  transition  state  between  those  of  old 
monarchies  and  what  is  proper  to  a  new  re 
public,  it  necessarily  follows  that  the  American,  * 
though  really  a  man  of  refinement  and  delicacy, 
is  not  just  the  kind  of  gentleman  that  the  Eng-  . 
lish  can  fully  appreciate.  In  cases  where  they 
do  so,  their  standard  being  different  from  ours, 
they  do  not  always  select  for  their  approbation 
the  kind  of  man  or  manners  whom  we  should 
judge  the  best ;  we  are  perhaps  apt  to  be  a  lit 
tle  too  fine,  a  little  too  sedulously  polished,  and 
of  course  too  conscious  of  it,  —  a  deadly  social 
crime,  certainly. 

233 


CHAPTER  XVII 

TO  return  from  this  long  discussion,  the 
Warden  took  kindly,  as  we  have  said, 
to  Redclyffe,  and  thought  him  a  mi 
raculously  good  fellow,  to  have  come  from  the 
rude  American  republic.  Hitherto,  in  the  little 
time  that  he  had  been  in  England,  Redclyffe 
had  received  civil  and  even  kind  treatment  from 
the  English  with  whom  he  had  come  casually 
in  contact ;  but  still  —  perhaps  partly  from  our 
Yankee  narrowness  and  reserve  —  he  had  felt, 
in  the  closest  coming  together,  as  if  there  were 
a  naked  sword  between  the  Englishman  and 
him,  as  between  the  Arabian  prince  in  the  tale 
and  the  princess  whom  he  wedded  ;  he  felt  as 
if  that  would  be  the  case  even  if  he  should  love 
an  Englishwoman  ;  to  such  a  distance,  into 
such  an  attitude  of  self-defence,  does  English 
self-complacency  and  belief  in  England's  superi 
ority  throw  the  stranger.  In  fact,  in  a  good- 
natured  way,  John  Bull  is  always  doubling  his 
fist  in  a  stranger's  face ;  and  though  it  be  good- 
natured,  it  does  not  always  produce  the  most 
amiable  feeling. 

The  worthy  Warden,  being  an  Englishman, 
had  doubtless  the  same  kind  of  feeling  ;  doubt- 
234 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

less,  too,  he  thought   ours  a   poor,  distracted 
country,  perhaps   prosperous  for  the  moment, 
but  as  likely  as  not  to  be  the  scene  of  anarchy 
five  minutes  hence ;  but  being  of  so  genial  a 
nature,  when  he  came  to  see  the  amiableness  of 
his  young  guest,  and  how  deeply  he  was  im 
pressed  with  England,  all   prejudice  died  away, 
and  he  loved  him  like  a  treasure  that  he  had 
found  for  himself,  and  valued  him  as  if  there 
were  something  of  his  own  in  him.     And  so 
the  old  Warden's  residence  had   never  before 
been  so  cheery  as  it  was  now  ;  his  bachelor  life 
passed  the  more  pleasantly  with  this  quiet,  viva 
cious,  yet  not  troublesomely  restless  spirit  be 
side  him,  —  this  eager,  almost  childish  interest 
in  everything  English,  and  yet  this  capacity  to 
take  independent  views  of  things,  and  some 
times,  it  might  be,  to  throw  a  gleam  of  light 
even  on  things  appertaining  to  England.     And 
so,  the  better  they  came  to  know  one  another, 
the  greater  was  their  mutual  liking. 

"  I  fear  I  am  getting  too  strong  to  burden 
you  much  longer,"  said  RedclyrTe,  this  morn 
ing.  "  I  have  no  pretence  to  be  a  patient 
now." 

"  Pooh  !  nonsense  !  "  ejaculated  the  Warden. 
"  It  will  not  be  safe  to  leave  you  to  yourself 
for  at  least  a  month  to  come.  And  I  have 
half  a  dozen  excursions  in  a  neighborhood  of 
twenty  miles,  in  which  I  mean  to  show  you 
235 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

what  old  England  is,  in  a  way  that  you  would 
never  find  out  for  yourself.  Do  not  speak  of 
going.  This  day,  if  you  find  yourself  strong 
enough,  you  shall  go  and  look  at  an  old  village 
church." 

"  With  all  my  heart,"  said  Redclyffe. 

They  went,  accordingly,  walking  slowly, 
in  consequence  of  Redclyffe's  yet  imperfect 
strength,  along  the  highroad,  which  was  over 
shadowed  with  elms,  that  grew  in  beautiful  shape 
and  luxuriance  in  that  part  of  England,  not  with 
the  slender,  drooping,  picturesque  grace  of  a 
New  England  elm,  but  more  luxuriant,  fuller 
of  leaves,  sturdier  in  limb.  It  was  a  day  which 
the  Warden  called  fine,  and  which  RedclyfFe,  at 
home,  would  have  thought  to  bode  rain  ;  though 
here  he  had  learned  that  such  weather  might 
continue  for  weeks  together,  with  only  a  few 
raindrops  all  the  time.  The  road  was  in  the 
finest  condition,  hard  and  dry. 

They  had  not  long  emerged  from  the  gate 
way  of  the  Hospital,  —  at  the  venerable  front 
and  gables  of  which  RedclyfTe  turned  to  look 
with  a  feeling  as  if  it  were  his  home,  —  when 
they  heard  the  clatter  of  hoofs  behind  them, 
and  a  gentleman  on  horseback  rode  by,  paying 
a  courteous  salute  to  the  Warden  as  he  passed. 
A  groom  in  livery  followed  at  a  little  distance, 
and  both  rode  roundly  towards  the  village, 
whither  the  Warden  and  his  friend  were  going. 

236 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

"  Did  you  observe  that  man  ?  "  asked  the 
Warden. 

"  Yes,"  said  Redclyffe.  "  Is  he  an  English 
man  ?  " 

"  That  is  a  pertinent  question/'  replied  the 
Warden,  "  but  I  scarcely  know  how  to  answer 
it." 

In  truth,  Redclyffe's  question  had  been  sug 
gested  by  the  appearance  of  the  mounted  gen 
tleman,  who  was  a  dark,  thin  man,  with  black 
hair,  and  a  black  moustache  and  pointed  beard 
setting  off  his  sallow  face,  in  which  the  eyes 
had  a  certain  pointed  steeliness,  which  did  not 
look  English,  —  whose  eyes,  methinks,  are 
usually  not  so  hard  as  those  of  Americans  or 
foreigners.  Redclyffe,  somehow  or  other,  had 
fancied  that  these  not  very  pleasant  eyes  had 
been  fixed  in  a  marked  way  on  himself,  a 
stranger,  while  at  the  same  time  his  salute  was 
evidently  directed  towards  the  Warden. 

"  An  Englishman  ?  —  why,  no,"  continued 
the  latter.  "  If  you  observe,  he  does  not  even  sit 
his  horse  like  an  Englishman,  but  in  that  ab 
surd,  stiff  Continental  way,  as  if  a  poker  should 
get  on  horseback.  Neither  has  he  an  English 
face,  English  manners,  nor  English  religion, 
nor  an  English  heart ;  nor,  to  sum  up  the  whole, 
had  he  English  birth.  Nevertheless,  as  fate 
would  have  it,  he  is  the  inheritor  of  a  good  old 
English  name,  a  fine  patrimonial  estate,  and  a 
237 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

very  probable  claim  to  an  old  English  title. 
This  is  Lord  Braithwaite  of  Braithwaite  Hall, 
who  if  he  can  make  his  case  good  (and  they  say 
there  is  good  prospect  of  it)  will  soon  be  Lord 
Hinchbrooke." 

"  I  hardly  know  why,  but  I  should  be  sorry 
for  it,"  said  Redclyffe.  "  He  certainly  is  not 
English  ;  and  I  have  an  odd  sort  of  sympathy, 
which  makes  me  unwilling  that  English  honors 
should  be  enjoyed  by  foreigners.  This,  then, 
is  the  gentleman,  of  Italian  birth  whom  you 
have  mentioned  to  me,  and  of  whom  there  is  a 
slight  mention  in  the  County  History." 

"  Yes,"  said  the  Warden.  '"  There  have  been 
three  descents  of  this  man's  branch  in  Italy,  and 
only  one  English  mother  in  all  that  time.  Posi 
tively,  I  do  not  see  an  English  trait  in  his  face, 
and  as  little  in  his  manner.  His  civility  is 
Italian,  such  as  oftentimes,  among  his  country 
men,  has  offered  a  cup  of  poison  to  a  guest,  or 
insinuated  the  stab  of  a  stiletto  into  his  heart." 

"  You  are  particularly  bitter  against  this  poor 
man,"  said  Redclyffe,  laughing  at  the  Warden's 
vehemence.  "  His  appearance  —  and  yet  he  is 
a  handsome  man  —  is  certainly  not  prepossess 
ing  ;  but  unless  it  be  countersigned  by  some 
thing  in  his  actual  life,  I  should  hardly  think  it 
worth  while  to  condemn  him  utterly." 

"  Well,  well  ;  you  can  forgive  a  little  Eng 
lish  prejudice,"  said  the  Warden,  a  little  ashamed. 

238 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

"  But,  in  good  earnest,  the  man  has  few  or  no 
good  traits,  takes  no  interest  in  the  country, 
dislikes  our  sky,  our  earth,  our  people,  is  close 
and  inhospitable,  a  hard  landlord,  and  whatever 
may  be  his  good  qualities,  they  are  not  such  as 
flourish  in  this  soil  and  climate,  or  can  be  ap 
preciated  here/' l 

"  Has  he  children  ?  "  asked  Redclyffe. 

"  They  say  so, — a  family  by  an  Italian  wife, 
whom  some,  on  the  other  hand,  pronounce  to 
be  no  wife  at  all.  His  son  is  at  a  Catholic 
college  in  France  ;  his  daughter  in  a  convent 
there." 

In  talk  like  this  they  were  drawing  near  the 
little  rustic  village  of  Braithwaite,  and  saw, 
above  a  cloud  of  foliage,  the  small,  low,  battie- 
mented  tower,  the  gray  stones  of  which  had 
probably  been  laid  a  little  after  the  Norman 
conquest.  Approaching  nearer,  they  passed  a 
thatched  cottage  or  two,  very  plain  and  simple 
edifices,  though  interesting  to  Redclyffe  from 
their  antique  aspect,  which  denoted  that  they 
were  probably  older  than  the  settlement  of  his 
own  country,  and  might  very  likely  have  nursed 
children  who  had  gone,  more  than  two  centu 
ries  ago,  to  found  the  commonwealth  of  which 
he  was  a  citizen.  If  you  considered  them  in 
one  way,  prosaically,  they  were  ugly  enough ; 
but  then  there  were  the  old  latticed  windows, 
and  there  the  thatch,  which  was  verdant  with 
239 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

leek,  and  strange  weeds,  possessing  a  whole  bo 
tanical  growth.  And  birds  flew  in  and  out,  as 
if  they  had  their  homes  there.  Then  came  a 
row  of  similar  cottages,  all  joined  on  together, 
and  each  with  a  little  garden  before  it  divided 
from  its  neighbors  by  a  hedge,  now  in  full  ver 
dure.  RedclyfFe  was  glad  to  see  some  symp 
toms  of  natural  love  of  beauty  here,  for  there 
were  plants  of  box,  cut  into  queer  shapes  of 
birds,  peacocks,  etc.,  as  if  year  after  year  had 
been  spent  in  bringing  these  vegetable  sculp 
tures  to  perfection.  In  one  of  the  gardens, 
moreover,  the  ingenious  inhabitant  had  spent 
his  leisure  in  building  grotto  work,  of  which  the 
English  are  rather  ludicrously  fond,  on  their 
little  bits  of  lawn,  and  in  building  a  miniature 
castle  of  oyster  shells,  where  were  seen  turrets, 
ramparts,  a  frowning  arched  gateway,  and  minia 
ture  cannon  looking  from  the  embrasures.  A 
pleasanter  and  better  adornment  were  the  homely 
household  flowers,  and  a  pleasant  sound,  too, 
was  the  hum  of  bees,  who  had  their  home  in 
several  beehives,  and  were  making  their  honey 
among  the  flowers  of  the  garden,  or  come  from 
afar,  buzzing  dreamily  through  the  air,  laden 
with  honey  that  they  had  found  elsewhere.  Fruit 
trees  stood  erect,  or,  in  some  instances,  were 
flattened  out  against  the  walls  of  cottages,  look 
ing  somewhat  like  hawks  nailed  in  terrorem 
against  a  barn  door.  The  male  members  of 
240 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

this  little  community  were  probably  afield,  with 
the  exception  of  one  or  two  half-torpid  great- 
grandsires,  who  [were]  moving  rheumatically 
about  the  gardens,  and  some  children  not  yet 
in  breeches,  who  stared  with  stolid  eyes  at  the 
passers-by  ;  but  the  good  dames  were  busy 
within  doors,  where  Redclyffe  had  glimpses  of 
their  interior  with  its  pavement  of  stone  flags. 
Altogether  it  seemed  a  comfortable  settlement 
enough. 

"  Do  you  see  that  child  yonder,"  observed 
the  Warden,  "  creeping  away  from  the  door,  and 
displaying  a  vista  of  his  petticoats  as  he  does 
so  ?  That  sturdy  boy  is  the  lineal  heir  of  one 
of  the  oldest  families  in  this  part  of  England, 
—  though  now  decayed  and  fallen,  as  you  may 
judge.  So,  you  see,  with  all  our  contrivances  to 
keep  up  an  aristocracy,  there  still  is  change  for 
ever  going  on." 

"  There  is  something  not  agreeable,  and  some 
thing  otherwise,  in  the  thought,"  replied  Red- 
clyffe.  "  What  is  the  name  of  the  old  family, 
whose  representative  is  in  such  a  case  ? " 

"  Moseby,"  said  the  Warden.  "  Their  family 
residence  stood  within  three  miles  of  Braithwaite 
Hall,  but  was  taken  down  in  the  last  century, 
and  its  place  supplied  by  a  grand  show  place, 
built  by  a  Birmingham  manufacturer,  who  also 
originated  here." 

They  kept  onward  from  this  outskirt  of  the 
241 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

village,  and  soon,  passing  over  a  little  rising 
ground  and  descending  now  into  a  hollow, 
came  to  the  new  portion  of  it,  clustered  around 
its  gray  Norman  church,  one  side  of  the  tower 
of  which  was  covered  with  ivy,  that  was  care 
fully  kept,  the  Warden  said,  from  climbing  to 
the  battlements,  on  account  of  some  old  pro 
phecy  that  foretold  that  the  tower  would  fall,  if 
ever  the  ivy  mantled  over  its  top.  Certainly, 
however,  there  seemed  little  likelihood  that  the 
square,  low  mass  would  fall,  unless  by  external 
violence,  in  less  than  as  many  ages  as  it  had 
already  stood. 

Redclyffe  looked  at  the  old  tower  and  little 
adjoining  edifice  with  an  interest  that  attached 
itself  to  every  separate,  moss-grown  stone  ;  but 
the  Warden,  like  most  Englishmen,  was  at  once 
amazed  and  wearied  with  the  American's  enthu 
siasm  for  this  spot,  which  to  him  was  uninter 
esting  for  the  very  reason  that  made  it  most 
interesting  to  Redclyffe,  because  it  had  stood 
there  such  a  weary  while.  It  was  too  common 
an  object  to  excite  in  his  mind,  as  it  did  in  Red- 
clyffe's,  visions  of  the  long  ago  time  when  it  was 
founded,  when  mass  was  first  said  there,  and  the 
glimmer  of  torches  at  the  altar  was  seen  through 
the  vista  of  that  broad-browed  porch ;  and  of  all 
the  procession  of  villagers  that  had  since  gone 
in  and  come  out  during  nine  hundred  years,  in 
their  varying  costume  and  fashion,  but  yet  — 
242 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

and  this  was  the  strongest  and  most  thrilling 
part  of  the  idea  —  all,  the  very  oldest  of  them, 
bearing  a  resemblance  of  feature,  the  kindred, 
the  family  likeness,  to  those  who  died  yesterday, 
—  to  those  who  still  went  thither  to  worship  ; 
and  all  the  grassy  and  half-obliterated  graves 
around  had  held  those  who  bore  the  same 
traits. 

In  front  of  the  church  was  a  little  green,  on 
which  stood  a  very  ancient  yew-tree,2  all  the 
heart  of  which  seemed  to  have  been  eaten  away 
by  time,  so  that  a  man  could  now  creep  into  the 
trunk,  through  a  wide  opening,  and,  looking 
upward,  see  another  opening  to  the  sky. 

"That  tree,"  observed  the  Warden,  "  is  well 
worth  the  notice  of  such  an  enthusiastic  lover  of 
old  things  ;  though  I  suppose  aged  trees  may  be 
the  one  antiquity  that  you  do  not  value,  having 
them  by  myriads  in  your  primeval  forests.  But 
then  the  interest  of  this  tree  consists  greatly  in 
what  your  trees  have  not,  —  in  its  long  connec 
tion  with  men  and  the  doings  of  men.  Some 
of  its  companions  were  made  into  bows  for 
Harold's  archers.  This  tree  is  of  unreckonable 
antiquity ;  so  old,  that  in  a  record  of  the  time 
of  Edward  the  Fourth  it  is  styled  the  yew- 
tree  of  Braithwaite  Green.  That  carries  it 
back  to  Norman  times,  truly.  It  was  in  com 
paratively  modern  times  when  it  served  as  a 
gallows  for  one  of  James  the  Second's  blood- 
243 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

thirsty  judges  to  hang  his  victims  on  after  Mon- 
mouth's  rebellion." 

On  one  side  of  this  yew  was  a  certain  struc 
ture  which  Redclyffe  did  not  recognize  as  any 
thing  that  he  had  before  seen,  but  soon  guessed 
its  purpose  ;  though,  from  appearances,  it 
seemed  to  have  been  very  long  since  it  had 
served  that  purpose.  It  was  a  ponderous  old 
oaken  framework,  six  or  seven  feet  high,  so  con 
trived  that  a  heavy  cross-piece  shut  down  over 
another,  leaving  two  round  holes ;  in  short,  it 
was  a  pair  of  stocks,  in  which,  I  suppose,  hun 
dreds  of  vagrants  and  petty  criminals  had  sat  of 
old,  but  which  now  appeared  to  be  merely  a 
matter  of  curiosity. 

"  This  excellent  old  machine,"  said  the  War 
den,  "  had  been  lying  in  a  rubbish  chamber  of 
the  church  tower  for  at  least  a  century,  when 
the  clerk,  who  is  a  little  of  an  antiquarian,  un 
earthed  it,  and  I  advised  him  to  set  it  here,  where 
it  used  to  stand  ;  —  not  with  any  idea  of  its 
being  used  (though  there  is  as  much  need  of  it 
now  as  ever),  but  that  the  present  age  may  see 
what  comforts  it  has  lost." 

They  sat  dowji  a  few  moments  on  the  circu 
lar  seat,  and  looked  at  the  pretty  scene  of  this 
quiet  little  village,  clustered  round  the  old 
church  as  a  centre ;  a  collection  of  houses, 
mostly  thatched,  though  there  were  one  or  two, 
with  rather  more  pretension,  that  had  roofs  of 
244 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

red  tiles.  Some  of  them  were  stone  cottages, 
whitewashed,  but  the  larger  edifices  had  timber 
frames,  filled  in  with  brick  and  plaster,  which 
seemed  to  have  been  renewed  in  patches,  and  to 
be  a  frailer  and  less  durable  material  than  the 
old  oak  of  their  skeletons.  They  were  gabled, 
with  lattice  windows,  and  picturesquely  set  off 
with  projecting  stones,  and  many  little  patch 
work  additions,  such  as,  in  the  course  of  gener 
ations,  the  inhabitants  had  found  themselves  to 
need.  There  was  not  much  commerce,  appar 
ently,  in  this  little  village,  there  seeming  to  be 
only  one  shop,  with  some  gingerbread,  penny 
whistles,  ballads,  and  such  matters,  displayed  in 
the  window ;  and  there,  too,  across  the  little 
green,  opposite  the  church,  was  the  village  ale 
house,  with  its  bench  under  the  low  projecting 
eaves,  with  a  Teniers  scene  of  two  wayfaring 
yeomen  drinking  a  pot  of  beer  and  smoking 
their  pipes. 

With  Redclyffe's  Yankee  feelings,  there  was 
something  sad  to  think  how  the  generations  had 
succeeded  one  another,  over  and  over,  in  innu 
merable  succession,  in  this  little  spot,  being  born 
here,  living,  dying,  lying  down  among  their 
fathers'  dust,  and  forthwith  getting  up  again,  as 
it  were,  and  recommencing  the  same  meaning 
less  round,  and  really  bringing  nothing  to  pass  ; 
for  probably  the  generation  of  to-day,  in  so  se 
cluded  and  motionless  a  place  as  this,  had  few  or 
245 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

no  ideas  in  advance  of  their  ancestors  of  five  cen 
turies  ago.  It  seems  not  worth  while  that  more 
than  one  generation  of  them  should  have  existed. 
Even  in  dress,  with  their  smock  frocks  and 
breeches,  they  were  just  like  their  fathers.  The 
stirring  blood  of  the  new  land,  —  where  no  man 
dwells  in  his  father's  house,  —  where  no  man 
thinks  of  dying  in  his  birthplace,  —  awoke 
within  him,  and  revolted  at  the  thought ;  and, 
as  connected  with  it,  revolted  at  all  the  heredi 
tary  pretensions  which,  since  his  stay  here,  had 
exercised  such  an  influence  over  the  fanciful 
part  of  his  nature.  In  another  mood,  the  vil 
lage  might  have  seemed  a  picture  of  rural  peace, 
which  it  would  have  been  worth  while  to  give 
up  ambition  to  enjoy ;  now,  as  his  warmer  im 
pulse  stirred,  it  was  a  weariness  to  think  of. 
The  new  American  was  stronger  in  him  than 
the  hereditary  Englishman. 

"  I  should  go  mad  of  it ! "  exclaimed  he 
aloud. 

He  started  up  impulsively,  to  the  amazement 
of  his  companion,  who  of  course  could  not  com 
prehend  what  seemed  so  to  have  stung  his 
American  friend.  As  they  passed  the  tree,  on 
the  other  side  of  its  huge  trunk,  they  saw  a 
young  woman,  sitting  on  that  side  of  it,  and 
sketching,  apparently,  the  church  tower,  with 
the  old  Elizabethan  vicarage  that  stood  near  it, 
246 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

with  a  gate  opening  into  the  churchyard,  and 
much  embowered  and  ivy-hung. 

"  Ah,  Miss  Cheltenham,"  said  the  Warden, 
"  I  am  glad  to  see  that  you  have  taken  the  old 
church  in  hand,  for  it  is  one  of  the  prettiest 
rustic  churches  in  England,  and  as  well  worthy 
as  any  to  be  engraved  on  a  sheet  of  note  paper 
or  put  into  a  portfolio.  Will  you  let  my  friend 
and  me  see  your  sketch  ?  " 

The  Warden  had  made  his  request  with 
rather  more  freedom  than  perhaps  he  would  to 
a  lady  whom  he  considered  on  a  level  with  him 
self,  though  with  perfect  respect,  that  being  con 
sidered;  and  Redclyffe,  looking  at  the  person, 
saw  that  it  was  the  same  of  whose  face  he  had 
had  a  glimpse  in  the  looking-glass,  in  the  old 
palmer's  chamber. 

"  No,  Doctor  Hammond,"  said  the  young 
lady,  with  a  respectful  sort  of  frankness,  "  you 
must  excuse  me.  I  am  no  good  artist,  and  am 
but  jotting  down  the  old  church  because  I  like 


it." 


"  Well,  well,  as  you  please,"  said  the  War 
den  ;  and  whispered  aside  to  Redclyffe,  "  A 
girl's  sketchbook  is  seldom  worth  looking  at. 
But  now,  Miss  Cheltenham,  I  am  about  to  give 
my  American  friend  here  a  lecture  on  gargoyles, 
and  other  peculiarities  of  sacred  Gothic  architec 
ture  ;  and  if  you  will  honor  me  with  your  at- 
247 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

tendon,  I  should  be  glad  to  find  my  audience 
increased  by  one." 

So  the  young  lady  arose,  and  Redclyffe,  con 
sidering  the  Warden's  allusion  to  him  as  a  sort 
of  partial  introduction,  bowed  to  her,  and  she 
responded  with  a  cold,  reserved,  yet  not  un 
pleasant  sort  of  courtesy.  They  went  towards 
the  church  porch,  and,  looking  in  at  the  old 
stone  bench  on  each  side  of  the  interior,  the 
Warden  showed  them  the  hacks  of  the  swords 
of  the  Roundheads,  when  they  took  it  by  storm. 
Redclyffe,  mindful  of  the  old  graveyard  on  the 
edge  of  which  he  had  spent  his  childhood,  be 
gan  to  look  at  this  far  more  antique  receptacle, 
expecting  to  find  there  many  ancient  tomb 
stones,  perhaps  of  contemporaries  or  predeces 
sors  of  the  founders  of  his  country.  In  this, 
however,  he  was  disappointed,  at  least  in  a  great 
measure  ;  for  the  persons  buried  in  the  church 
yard  were  probably,  for  the  most  part,  of  a  hum 
ble  rank  in  life,  such  as  were  not  so  ambitious 
as  to  desire  a  monument  of  any  kind,  but  were 
content  to  let  their  low  earth-mounds  subside 
into  the  level,  where  their  memory  had  waxed 
so  faint  that  none  among  the  survivors  could 
point  out  the  spot,  or  cared  any  longer  about 
knowing  it ;  while  in  other  cases,  where  a  mon 
ument  of  red  freestone,  or  even  of  hewn  gran 
ite,  had  been  erected,  the  English  climate  had 
forthwith  set  to  work  to  gnaw  away  the  inscrip- 
248 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

tions  ;  so  that  in  fifty  years  —  in  a  time  that 
would  have  left  an  American  tombstone  as  fresh 
as  if  just  cut  —  it  was  quite  impossible  to  make 
out  the  record.  Their  superiors,  meanwhile, 
were  sleeping  less  enviably  in  dismal  mouldy 
and  dusty  vaults,  instead  of  under  the  daisies.. 
Thus  Redclyffe  really  found  less  antiquity  here 
than  in  the  graveyard  which  might  almost  be 
called  his  natal  spot. 

When  he  said  something  to  this  effect,  the 
Warden  nodded. 

"  Yes,"  said  he,  "  and,  in  truth,  we  have  not 
much  need  of  inscriptions  for  these  poor  people. 
All  good  families  —  every  one  almost,  with  any 
pretensions  to  respectable  station,  has  his  family 
or  individual  recognition  within  the  church,  or 
upon  its  walls  ;  or  some  of  them  you  see  on 
tombs  on  the  outside.  As  for  our  poorer  friends 
here,  they  are  content,  as  they  may  well  be,  to 
swell  and  subside,  like  little  billows  of  mortal 
ity,  here  on  the  outside." 

"  And  for  my  part,"  said  Redclyffe,  "  if  there 
were  anything  particularly  desirable  on  either 
side,  I  should  like  best  to  sleep  under  this  lovely 
green  turf,  with  the  daisies  strewn  over  me  by 
Nature  herself,  and  whatever  other  homely  flow 
ers  any  friend  might  choose  to  add." 

"  And,  Doctor  Hammond,"  said  the  young 
woman,  "  we  see  by  this  gravestone  that  some 
times  a  person  of  humble  rank  may  happen  to 
249 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

be  commemorated,  and  that  Nature  —  in  this 
instance  at  least  —  seems  to  take  especial  pains 
and  pleasure  to  preserve  the  record." 

She  indicated  a  flat  gravestone,  near  the  porch, 
which  time  had  indeed  beautified  in  a  singular 
way,  for  there  was  cut  deep  into  it  a  name  and 
date,  in  old  English  characters,  —  very  deep  it 
must  originally  have  been  ;  and  as  if  in  despair 
of  obliterating  it,  Time  had  taken  the  kindlier 
method  of  filling  up  the  letters  with  moss  ;  so 
that  now,  high  embossed  in  loveliest  green,  was 
seen  the  name  "  Richard  Oglethorpe  1613  "  ;  — 
green,  and  flourishing,  and  beautiful,  like  the 
memory  of  a  good  man.  The  inscription  ori 
ginally  seemed  to  have  contained  some  twenty 
lines,  which  might  have  been  poetry,  or  perhaps 
a  prose  eulogy,  or  perhaps  the  simple  record  of 
the  buried  person's  life  ;  but  all  this,  having  been 
done  in  fainter  and  smaller  letters,  was  now  so 
far  worn  away  as  to  be  illegible  ;  nor  had  they 
ever  been  deep  enough  to  be  made  living  in 
moss,  like  the  rest  of  the  inscription. 

"  How  tantalizing,"  remarked  RedclyfFe,  "  to 
see  the  verdant  shine  of  this  name,  impressed 
upon  us  as  something  remarkable  —  and  nothing 
else  !  I  cannot  but  think  that  there  must  be 
something  worth  remembering  about  a  man  thus 
distinguished,  when  two  hundred  years  have 
taken  all  these  natural  pains  to  illustrate  and 
250 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

emblazon  (  Richard  Oglethorpe  1613.'  Ha  !  1 
surely  recollect  that  name.  It  haunts  me  some 
how,  as  if  it  had  been  familiar  of  old." 

"  And  me,"  said  the  young  lady. 

"It  was  an  old  name,  hereabouts,"  observed 
the  Warden,  "  but  has  been  long  extinct,  —  a 
cottage  name,  not  a  gentleman's.  I  doubt  not 
that  Oglethorpes  sleep  in  many  of  these  undis 
tinguished  graves." 

Redclyffe  did  not  much  attend  to  what  his 
friend  said,  his  attention  being  attracted  to  the 
tone  —  to  something  in  the  tone  of  the  young 
lady,  and  also  to  her  coincidence  in  his  remark 
that  the  name  appealed  to  some  early  recollec 
tion.  He  had  been  taxing  his  memory,  to  tell 
him  when  and  how  the  name  had  become  famil 
iar  to  him ;  and  he  now  remembered  that  it  had 
occurred  in  the  old  Doctor's  story  of  the  Bloody 
Footstep,  told  to  him  and  Elsie,  so  long  ago.3 
To  him  and  Elsie  !  It  struck  him  —  what  if 
it  were  possible  —  but  he  knew  it  was  not  — 
that  the  young  lady  had  a  remembrance  also  of 
the  fact,  and  that  she,  after  so  many  years,  were 
mingling  her  thoughts  with  his  ?  As  this  fancy 
recurred  to  him,  he  endeavored  to  get  a  glimpse 
of  her  face,  and  while  he  did  so  she  turned  -it. 
upon  him.  It  was  a  quick,  sensitive  face,  that 
did  not  seem  altogether  English ;  he  would 
rather  have  imagined  it  American  ;  but  at  all 
251 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

events  he  could  not  recognize  it  as  one  that  he 
had  seen  before,  and  a  thousand  fantasies  died 
within  him  as,  in  his  momentary  glance,  he  took 
in  the  volume  of  its  contour. 
252 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

A  PER  the  two  friends  had  parted  from 
the  young  lady,  they  passed  through 
the  village,  and  entered  the  park  gate 
of  Braithwaite  Hall,  pursuing  a  winding  road 
through  its  beautiful  scenery,  which  realized  all 
that  Redclyffe  had  read  or  dreamed  about  the 
perfect  beauty  of  these  sylvan  creations,  with 
the  clumps  of  trees,  or  sylvan  oaks,  picturesquely 
disposed.  To  heighten  the  charm,  they  saw  a 
herd  of  deer  reposing,  who,  on  their  appear 
ance,  rose  from  their  recumbent  position,  and 
began  to  gaze  warily  at  the  strangers  ;  then, 
tossing  their  horns,  they  set  off  on  a  stampede, 
but  only  swept  round,  and  settled  down  not  far 
from  where  they  were.  Redclyffe  looked  with 
great  interest  at  these  deer,  who  were  at  once 
wild  and  civilized ;  retaining  a  kind  of  free  for 
est  citizenship,  while  yet  they  were  in  some 
sense  subject  to  man.  It  seemed  as  if  they 
were  a  link  between  wild  nature  and  tame ;  as 
if  they  could  look  back,  in  their  long  recollec 
tions,  through  a  vista,  into  the  times  when  Eng 
land's  forests  were  as  wild  as  those  of  America, 
though  now  they  were  but  a  degree  more  re 
moved  from  domesticity  than  cattle,  and  took 
253 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

their  food  in  winter  from  the  hand  of  man,  and 
in  summer  reposed  upon  his  lawns.  This 
seemed  the  last  touch  of  that  delightful  con 
quered  and  regulated  wildness,  which  English 
art  has  laid  upon  the  whole  growth  of  English 
nature,  animal  or  vegetable. 

"  There  is  nothing  really  wild  in  your  whole 
island,"  he  observed  to  the  Warden.  "  I  have 
a  sensation  as  if  somebody  knew,  and  had  cul 
tivated  and  fostered,  and  set  out  in  its  proper 
place,  every  tree  that  grows  ;  as  if  somebody  had 
patted  the  heads  of  your  wildest  animals  and 
played  with  them.  It  is  very  delightful  to  me, 
for  the  present ;  and  yet,  I  think,  in  the  course 
of  time,  I  should  feel  the  need  for  something 
genuine,  as  it  were,  —  something  that  had  not 
the  touch  and  breath  of  man  upon  it.  I  sup 
pose  even  your  skies  are  modified  by  the  modes 
of  human  life  that  are  going  on  beneath  them. 
London  skies,  of  course,  are  so  ;  but  the  breath 
of  a  great  people,  to  say  nothing  of  its  furnace 
vapors  and  hearth  smokes,  makes  the  sky  other 
than  it  was  a  thousand  years  ago." 

"  I  believe  we  English  have  a  feeling  like 
this  occasionally,"  replied  the  Warden,  "  and  it 
is  from  that,  partly,  that  we  must  account  for 
our  adventurousness  into  other  regions,  espe 
cially  for  our  interest  in  what  is  wild  and  new. 
In  your  own  forests,  now,  and  prairies,  I  fancy 
we  find  a  charm  that  Americans  do  not.  In 
254 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

the  sea,  too,  and  therefore  we  are  yachters. 
For  my  part,  however,  I  have  grown  to  like 
Nature  a  little  smoothed  down,  and  enriched ; 
less  gaunt  and  wolfish  than  she  would  be  if  left 
to  herself." 

"  Yes  ;  I  feel  that  charm  too,"  said  Redclyffe. 
"  But  yet  life  would  be  slow  and  heavy,  me- 
thinks,  to  see  nothing  but  English  parks." 

Continuing  their  course  through  the  noble 
clumps  of  oaks,  they  by  and  by  had  a  vista  of 
the  distant  hall  itself.  It  was  one  of  the  old 
English  timber  and  plaster  houses,  many  of 
which  are  of  unknown  antiquity  ;  as  was  the 
case  with  a  portion  of  this  house,  although 
other  portions  had  been  renewed,  repaired,  or 
added,  within  a  century.  It  had,  originally,  the 
Warden  said,  stood  all  round  an  enclosed 
courtyard,  like  the  great  houses  of  the  Conti 
nent;  but  now  one  side  of  the  quadrangle  had 
long  been  removed,  and  there  was  only  a  front, 
with  two  wings  ;  the  beams  of  old  oak  being 
picked  out  with  black,  and  three  or  four  gables 
in  a  line  forming  the  front,  while  the  wings 
seemed  to  be  stone.  It  was  the  timber  portion 
that  was  most  ancient.  A  clock  was  on  the 
midmost  gable,  and  pointed  now  towards  one 
o'clock.  The  whole  scene  impressed  Red 
clyffe,  not  as  striking,  but  as  an  abode  of  an 
cient  peace,  where  generation  after  generation 
of  the  same  family  had  lived,  each  making  the 
255 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

most  of  life,  because  the  life  of  each  successive 
dweller  there  was  eked  out  with  the  lives  of  all 
who  had  hitherto  lived  there,  and  had  in  it 
equally  those  lives  which  were  to  come  after 
wards  ;  so  that  there  was  a  rare  and  successful 
contrivance  for  giving  length,  fulness,  body, 
substance,  to  this  thin  and  frail  matter  of  hu 
man  life.  And,  as  life  was  so  rich  in  compre 
hensiveness,  the  dwellers  there  made  the  most 
of  it  for  the  present  and  future,  each  genera 
tion  contriving  what  it  could  to  add  to  the  cosi 
ness,  the  comfortableness,  the  grave,  solid  re 
spectability,  the  sylvan  beauty,  of  the  house 
with  which  they  seemed  to  be  connected  both 
before  and  after  death.  The  family  had  its 
home  there  ;  not  merely  the  individual.  An 
cient  shapes,  that  had  apparently  gone  to  the 
family  tomb,  had  yet  a  right  by  family  hearth 
and  in  family  hall  ;  nor  did  they  come  thither 
cold  and  shivering,  and  diffusing  dim  ghostly 
terrors,  and  repulsive  shrinkings,  and  death  in 
life ;  but  in  warm,  genial  attributes,  making 
this  life  now  passing  more  dense,  as  it  were,  by 
adding  all  the  substance  of  their  own  to  it. 
Redclyffe  could  not  compare  this  abode,  and 
the  feelings  that  it  aroused,  to  the  houses  of  his 
own  country ;  poor  tents  of  a  day,  inns  of  a 
night,  where  nothing  was  certain,  save  that  the 
family  of  him  who  built  it  would  not  dwell  here, 
even  if  he  himself  should  have  the  bliss  to  die 

256 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

under  the  roof  which,  with  absurdest  anticipa 
tions,  he  had  built  for  his  posterity.  Posterity  ! 
An  American  can  have  none. 

"  All  this  sort  of  thing  is  beautiful ;  the 
family  institution  was  beautiful  in  its  day," 
ejaculated  he  aloud,  to  himself,  not  to  his  com 
panion  ;  "  but  it  is  a  thing  of  the  past.  It  is 
dying  out  in  England ;  and  as  for  ourselves, 
we  never  had  it.  Something  better  will  come 
up  ;  but  as  for  this,  it  is  past/1 

"  That  is  a  sad  thing  to  say,"  observed  the 
Warden,  by  no  means  comprehending  what  was 
passing  in  his  friend's  mind.  "  But  if  you  wish 
to  view  the  interior  of  the  Hall,  we  will  go 
thither ;  for,  harshly  as  I  have  spoken  of  the 
owner,  I  suppose  he  has  English  feeling  enough 
to  give  us  lunch  and  show  us  the  old  house  of 
his  forefathers." 

"  Not  at  present,  if  you  please,"  replied  Red- 
clyffe.  "  I  am  afraid  of  destroying  my  delight 
ful  visionary  idea  of  the  house  by  coming  too 
near  it.  Before  I  leave  this  part  of  the  coun 
try,  I  should  be  glad  to  ramble  over  the  whole 
of  it,  but  not  just  now." 

While  Redclyffe  was  still  enjoying  the  frank 
hospitality  of  his  new  friend,  a  rather  marked 
event  occurred  in  his  life  ;  yet  not  so  important 
in  reality  as  it  seemed  to  his  English  friend. 

A  large  letter  was  delivered  to  him,  bearing 
the  official  seal  of  the  United  States  and  the 
257 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

indorsement  of  the  State  Department ;  a  very 
important-looking  document,  which  could  not 
but  add  to  the  importance  of  the  recipient  in 
the  eyes  of  Englishmen,  accustomed  as  they 
are  to  bow  down  before  any  seal  of  government. 
Redclyffe  opened  it  rather  coolly,  being  rather 
loath  to  renew  any  of  his  political  remem 
brances,  now  that  he  was  in  peace  ;  or  to  think 
of  the  turmoil  of  modern  and  democratic  poli 
tics,  here  in  this  quietude  of  gone-by  ages  and 
customs.  The  contents,  however,  took  him 
by  surprise  ;  nor  did  he  know  whether  to  be 
pleased  or  not. 

The  official  package,  in  short,  contained  an 
announcement  that  he  had  been  appointed  by 
the  President,  by  and  with  the  advice  of  the 
Senate,  to  one  of  the  Continental  missions, 
usually  esteemed  an  object  of  considerable  am 
bition  to  any  young  man  in  politics ;  so  that, 
if  consistent  with  his  own  pleasure,  he  was  now 
one  of  the  Diplomatic  Corps,  a  Minister,  and 
representative  of  his  country.  On  first  consid 
ering  the  matter,  Redclyffe  was  inclined  to 
doubt  whether  this  honor  had  been  obtained  for 
him  altogether  by  friendly  aid,  though  it  did 
happen  to  have  much  in  it  that  might  suit  his 
half-formed  purpose  of  remaining  long  abroad ; 
but  with  an  eye  already  rendered  somewhat  ob 
lique  by  political  practice,  he  suspected  that  a 
political  rival  —  a  rival,  though  of  his  own  party 
258 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

• —  had  been  exerting  himself  to  provide  an  in 
ducement  for  Redclyffe  to  leave  the  local  field 
to  him  ;  while  he  himself  should  take  advan 
tage  of  the  vacant  field,  and  his  rival  be  thus 
insidiously,  though  honorably,  laid  on  the  shelf, 
whence  if  he  should  try  to  remove  himself 
a  few  years  hence  the  shifting  influences  of 
American  politics  would  be  likely  enough  to 
thwart  him  ;  so  that,  for  the  sake  of  being  a  few 
years  nominally  somebody,  he  might  in  fine 
come  back  to  his  own  country  and  find  him 
self  permanently  nobody.  But  Redclyffe  had 
already  sufficiently  begun  to  suspect  that  he 
lacked  some  qualities  that  a  politician  ought  to 
have,  and  without  which  a  political  life,  whether 
successful  or  otherwise,  is  sure  to  be  a  most 
irksome  one  :  some  qualities  he  lacked,  others 
he  had,  both  almost  equally  an  obstacle.  When 
he  communicated  the  offer,  therefore,  to  his 
friend,  the  Warden,  it  was  with  the  remark  that 
he  believed  he  should  accept  it. 

"  Accept  it  ?  "  cried  the  Warden,  opening  his 
eyes.  "  I  should  think  so,  indeed  !  Why,  it  puts 
you  above  the  level  of  the  highest  nobility  of 
the  Court  to  which  you  are  accredited  ;  simple 
republican  as  you  are,  it  gives  you  rank  with 
the  old  blood  and  birth  of  Europe.  Accept  it? 
By  all  means  ;  and  I  will  come  and  see  you  at 
your  court." 

"  Nothing  is  more  different  between  England 
259 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

and  America,"  said  Redclyffe, "  than  the  differ 
ent  way  in  which  the  citizen  of  either  country 
looks  at  official  station.  To  an  Englishman,  a 
commission,  of  whatever  kind,  emanating  from 
his  sovereign,  brings  apparently  a  gratifying 
sense  of  honor ;  to  an  American,  on  the  con 
trary,  it  offers  really  nothing  of  the  kind.  He 
ceases  to  be  a  sovereign,  —  an  atom  of  sover 
eignty,  at  all  events,  —  and  stoops  to  be  a  ser 
vant.  If  I  accept  this  mission,  honorable  as  you 
think  it,  I  assure  you  I  shall  not  feel  myself 
quite  the  man  I  have  hitherto  been  ;  although 
there  is  no  obstacle  in  the  way  of  party  obliga 
tions  or  connections  to  my  taking  it,  if  I  please." 

"  I  do  not  well  understand  this,"  quoth  the 
good  Warden.  "  It  is  one  of  the  promises  of 
Scripture  to  the  wise  man,  that  he  shall  stand 
before  kings,  and  that  this  embassy  will  enable 
you  to  do.  No  man  —  no  man  of  your  coun 
try  surely  — is  more  worthy  to  do  so  ;  so  pray 
accept." 

"  I  think  I  shall,"  said  Redclyffe. 

Much  as  the  Warden  had  seemed  to  affec- 
tionize  Redclyffe  hitherto,  the  latter  could  not 
but  be  sensible,  thereafter,  of  a  certain  deference 
in  his  friend  towards  him,  which  he  would  fain 
have  got  rid  of,  had  it  been  in  his  power.  How 
ever,  there  was  still  the  same  heartiness  under 
it  all ;  and  after  a  little  he  seemed,  in  some  de 
gree,  to  take  Redclyffe's  own  view  of  the  mat- 
260 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

ter  ;  —  namely,  that,  being  so  temporary  as 
these  republican  distinctions  are,  they  really  do 
not  go  skin-deep,  have  no  reality  in  them,  and 
that  the  sterling  quality  of  the  man,  be  it  higher 
or  lower,  is  nowise  altered  by  it,  —  an  apo 
thegm  that  is  true  even  of  an  hereditary  nobil 
ity,  and  still  more  so  of  our  own  Honorables 
and  Excellencies.  However,  the  good  Warden 
was  glad  of  his  friend's  dignity,  and  perhaps, 
too,  a  little  glad  that  this  high  fortune  had  be 
fallen  one  whom  he  chanced  to  be  entertaining 
under  his  roof.  As  it  happened,  there  was  an 
opportunity  which  might  be  taken  advantage  of 
to  celebrate  the  occasion  ;  at  least,  to  make  it 
known  to  the  English  world  so  far  as  the  extent 
of  the  county.1 

It  was  an  hereditary  custom  for  the  Warden 
of  Braithwaite  Hospital,  once  a  year,  to  give  a 
grand  dinner  to  the  nobility  and  gentry  of  the 
neighborhood ;  and  to  this  end  a  bequest  had 
been  made  by  one  of  the  former  squires  or  lords 
of  Braithwaite  which  would  of  itself  suffice  to 
feed  forty  or  fifty  Englishmen  with  reasonable 
sumptuousness.  The  present  Warden,  being  a 
gentleman  of  private  fortune,  was  accustomed 
to  eke  the  limited  income,  devoted  for  this 
purpose,  with  such  additions  from  his  own 
resources  as  brought  the  rude  and  hearty  hos 
pitality  contemplated  by  the  first  founder  on  a 
par  with  modern  refinements  of  gourmandism. 
261 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

The  banquet  was  annually  given  in  the  fine  old 
hall  where  James  the  Second  had  feasted  ;  and 
on  some  of  these  occasions  the  Warden's  table 
had  been  honored  with  illustrious  guests,  espe 
cially  when  any  of  them  happened  to  be  wanting 
an  opportunity  to  come  before  the  public  in  an 
after-dinner  speech.  Just  at  present  there  was 
no  occasion  of  that  sort ;  and  the  good  Warden 
fancied  that  he  might  give  considerable  eclat  to 
his  hereditary  feast  by  bringing  forward  the 
young  American  envoy,  a  distinguished  and 
eloquent  man,  to  speak  on  the  well-worn  topic 
of  the  necessity  of  friendly  relations  between 
England  and  America. 

"  You  are  eloquent,  I  doubt  not,  my  young 
friend  ?  "  inquired  he. 

"  Why,  no,"  answered  Redclyffe  modestly. 

"  Ah,  yes,  I  know  it,"  returned  the  Warden. 
"  If  one  have  all  the  natural  prerequisites  of 
eloquence  :  a  quick  sensibility,  ready  thought, 
apt  expression,  a  good  voice,  —  and  not  making 
its  way  into  the  world  through  your  nose  either, 
as  they  say  most  of  your  countrymen's  voices 
do.  You  shall  make  the  crack  speech  at  my 
dinner  ;  and  so  strengthen  the  bonds  of  good- 
fellowship  between  our  two  countries,  that  there 
shall  be  no  question  of  war  for  at  least  six  months 


to  come." 


Accordingly,  the  preparations  for  this  stately 
banquet  went    on  with   great   spirit,    and    the 
262 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

Warden  exhorted  Redclyffe  to  be  thinking  of 
some  good  topics  for  his  international  speech ; 
but  the  young  man  laughed  it  off,  and  told  his 
friend  that  he  thought  the  inspiration  of  the 
moment,  aided  by  the  good  old  wine  which  the 
Warden  had  told  him  of,  as  among  the  trea 
sures  of  the  Hospital,  would  perhaps  serve  him 
better  than  any  elaborate  preparation. 

Redclyffe,  being  not  even  yet  strong,  used  to 
spend  much  time,  when  the  day  chanced  to  be 
pleasant  (which  was  oftener  than  his  preconcep 
tions  of  English  weather  led  him  to  expect),  in 
the  garden  behind  the  Warden's  house.  It  was 
an  extensive  one,  and  apparently  as  antique  as 
the  foundation  of  the  establishment ;  and  during 
all  these  years  it  had  probably  been  growing 
richer  and  richer.  Here  were  flowers  of  ancient 
race,  and  some  that  had  been  merely  field  or 
wayside  flowers  when  first  they  came  into  the  gar 
den  ;  but  by  long  cultivation  and  hereditary  care, 
instead  of  dying  out,  they  had  acquired  a  new 
richness  and  beauty,  so  that  you  would  scarcely 
recognize  the  daisy  or  the  violet.  Roses  too, 
there  were,  which  Doctor  Hammond  said  had 
been  taken  from  those  white  and  red  rose-trees 
in  the  Temple  Gardens,  whence  the  partisans 
of  York  and  Lancaster  had  plucked  their  fatal 
badges.  With  these,  there  were  all  the  modern 
and  far-fetched  flowers  from  America,  the  East, 
and  elsewhere  ;  even  the  prairie  flowers  and  the 
263 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

California  blossoms  were  represented  here  ;  for 
one  of  the  brethren  had  horticultural  tastes,  and 
was  permitted  freely  to  exercise  them  there. 
The  antique  character  of  the  garden  was  pre 
served,  likewise,  by  the  alleys  of  box,  a  part  of 
which  had  been  suffered  to  remain,  and  was  now 
grown  to  a  great  height  and  density,  so  as  to 
make  impervious  green  walls.  There  were  also 
yew-trees  clipped  into  strange  shapes  of  bird  and 
beast,  and  uncouth  heraldic  figures,  among  which 
of  course  the  leopard's  head  grinned  triumphant ; 
and  as  for  fruit,  the  high  garden  wall  was  lined 
with  pear-trees,  spread  out  flat  against  it,  where 
they  managed  to  produce  a  cold,  flavorless  fruit, 
a  good  deal  akin  to  cucumbers. 

Here,  in  these  genial  old  arbors,  RedclyfTe 
used  to  recline  in  the  sweet,  mild  summer 
weather,  basking  in  the  sun,  which  was  seldom 
too  warm  to  make  its  full  embrace  uncomfort 
able  ;  and  it  seemed  to  him,  with  its  fertility, 
with  its  marks  everywhere  of  the  quiet  long-be 
stowed  care  of  man,  the  sweetest  and  cosiest  se 
clusion  he  had  ever  known  ;  and  two  or  three 
times  a  day,  when  he  heard  the  screech  of  the 
railway  train,  rushing  on  towards  distant  Lon 
don,  it  impressed  him  still  more  with  a  sense  of 
safe  repose  here. 

Not  unfrequently  he  here  met  the  white- 
bearded  palmer  in  whose  chamber  he  had  found 
himself,  as  if  conveyed  thither  by  enchantment, 
264 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

when  he  first  came  to  the  Hospital.  The  old 
man  was  not  by  any  means  of  the  garrulous 
order  ;  and  yet  he  seemed  full  of  thoughts,  full 
of  reminiscences,  and  not  disinclined  to  the 
company  of  Redclyffe.  In  fact,  the  latter  some 
times  flattered  himself  that  a  tendency  for  his 
society  was  one  of  the  motives  that  brought  him 
to  the  garden  ;  though  the  amount  of  their  in 
tercourse,  after  all,  was  not  so  great  as  to  war 
rant  the  idea  of  any  settled  purpose  in  so  doing. 
Nevertheless,  they  talked  considerably ;  and 
Redclyffe  could  easily  see  that  the  old  man  had 
been  an  extensive  traveller,  and  had  perhaps 
occupied  situations  far  different  from  his  present 
one,  and  had  perhaps  been  a  struggler  in  trou 
bled  waters  before  he  was  drifted  into  the  re 
tirement  where  Redclyffe  found  him.  He  was 
fond  of  talking  about  the  unsuspected  relation 
ship  that  must  now  be  existing  between  many 
families  in  England  and  unknown  consanguin 
ity  in  the  New  World,  where,  perhaps,  really  the 
main  stock  of  the  family  tree  was  now  existing, 
and  with  a  new  spirit  and  life,  which  the  repre 
sentative  growth  here  in  England  had  lost  by 
too  long  continuance  in  one  air  and  one  mode 
of  life.  For  history  and  observation  proved 
that  all  people  —  and  the  English  people  by  no 
means  less  than  others  —  needed  to  be  trans 
planted,  or  somehow  renewed,  every  few  gener 
ations  ;  so  that,  according  to  this  ancient  phi- 

265 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

losopher's  theory,  it  would  be  good  for  the  whole 
people  of  England,  now,  if  it  could  at  once  be 
transported  to  America,  where  its  fatness,  its 
sleepiness,  its  too  great  beefmess,  its  preponder 
ant  animal  character,  would  be  rectified  by  a 
different  air  and  soil  ;  and  equally  good,  on  the 
other  hand,  for  the  whole  American  people  to 
be  transplanted  back  to  the  original  island, 
where  their  nervousness  might  be  weighted  with 
heavier  influences,  where  their  little  women 
might  grow  bigger,  where  their  thin,  dry  men 
might  get  a  burden  of  flesh  and  good  stomachs, 
where  their  children  might,  with  the  air,  draw 
in  a  reverence  for  age,  forms,  and  usage. 

RedclyfFe  listened  with  complacency  to  these 
speculations,  smiling  at  the  thought  of  such  an 
exodus  as  would  take  place,  and  the  reciprocal 
dissatisfaction  which  would  probably  be  the  re 
sult.  But  he  had  greater  pleasure  in  drawing 
out  some  of  the  old  gentleman's  legendary  lore, 
some  of  which,  whether  true  or  not,  was  very 


curious.2 


As  RedclyfFe  sat  one  day  watching  the  old 
man  in  the  garden,  he  could  not  help  being 
struck  by  the  scrupulous  care  with  which  he 
attended  to  the  plants  ;  it  seemed  to  him  that 
there  was  a  sense  of  justice,  —  of  desiring  to  do 
exactly  what  was  right  in  the  matter,  not  favor 
ing  one  plant  more  than  another,  and  doing  all 
he  could  for  each.  His  progress,  in  conse- 
266 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

quence,  was  so  slow,  that  in  an  hour,  while  Red- 
clyffe  was  off  and  on  looking  at  him,  he  had 
scarcely  done  anything  perceptible.  Then  he 
was  so  minute  ;  and  often,  when  he  was  on  the 
point  of  leaving  one  thing  to  take  up  another, 
some  small  neglect  that  he  saw  or  fancied  called 
him  back  again,  to  spend  other  minutes  on  the 
same  task.  He  was  so  full  of  scruples.  It 
struck  Redclyffe  that  this  was  conscience,  mor 
bid,  sick,  a  despot  in  trifles,  looking  so  closely 
into  life  that  it  permitted  nothing  to  be  done. 
The  man  might  once  have  been  strong  and  able, 
but  by  some  unhealthy  process  of  his  life  he 
had  ceased  to  be  so  now.  Nor  did  any  happy 
or  satisfactory  result  appear  to  come  from  these 
painfully  wrought  efforts  ;  he  still  seemed  to 
know  that  he  had  left  something  undone  in  do 
ing  too  much  in  another  direction.  Here  was 
a  lily  that  had  been  neglected,  while  he  paid  too 
much  attention  to  a  rose  ;  he  had  set  his  foot 
on  a  violet ;  he  had  grubbed  up,  in  his  haste,  a 
little  plant  that  he  mistook  for  a  weed,  but  that 
he  now  suspected  was  an  herb  of  grace.  Grieved 
by  such  reflections  as  these,  he  heaved  a  deep 
sigh,  almost  amounting  to  a  groan,  and  sat  down 
on  the  little  stool  that  he  carried  with  him  in  his 
weeding,  resting  his  face  in  his  hands. 

Redclyffe  deemed  that  he  might  be  doing  the 
old  man  a  good  service  by  interrupting  his  mel 
ancholy  labors  ;  so  he  emerged  from  the  oppo- 

267 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

site  door  of  the  summer-house,  and  came  along 
the  adjoining  walk  with  somewhat  heavy  foot 
steps,  in  order  that  the  palmer  might  have 
warning  of  his  approach  without  any  grounds  to 
suppose  that  he  had  been  watched  hitherto. 
Accordingly,  when  he  turned  into  the  other 
alley,  he  found  the  old  man  sitting  erect  on  his 
stool,  looking  composed,  but  still  sad,  as  was 
his  general  custom. 

"  After  all  your  wanderings  and  experience," 
said  he,  "  I  observe  that  you  come  back  to  the 
original  occupation  of  cultivating  a  garden,  — 
the  innocentest  of  all." 

"  Yes,  so  it  would  seem,"  said  the  old  man  ; 
"  but  somehow  or  other  I  do  not  find  peace  in 
this." 

"  These  plants  and  shrubs,"  returned  Red- 
clyffe, "  seem  at  all  events  to  recognize  the  good 
ness  of  your  rule,  so  far  as  it  has  extended  over 
them.  See  how  joyfully  they  take  the  sun;  how 
clear  [they  are]  from  all  these  vices  that  lie 
scattered  round,  in  the  shape  of  weeds.  It  is  a 
lovely  sight,  and  I  could  almost  fancy  a  quiet 
enjoyment  in  the  plants  themselves,  which  they 
have  no  way  of  making  us  aware  of,  except  by 
giving  out  a  fragrance." 

"  Ah  !  how  infinitely  would  that  idea  increase 
man's  responsibility,"  said  the  old  palmer,  "  if, 
besides  man  and  beast,  we  should  find  it  neces 
sary  to  believe  that  there  is  also  another  set  of 
268 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

beings  dependent  for  their  happiness  on  our  do 
ing,  or  leaving  undone,  what  might  have  effect 
on  them  !  " 

"  I  question,"  said  Redclyffe,  smiling,  "  whe 
ther  their  pleasurable  or  painful  experiences  can 
be  so  keen,  that  we  need  trouble  our  consciences 
much  with  regard  to  what  we  do,  merely  as  it 
affects  them.  So  highly  cultivated  a  conscience 
as  that  would  be  a  nuisance  to  one's  self  and 
one's  fellows." 

"  You  say  a  terrible  thing,"  rejoined  the  old 
man.  "  Can  conscience  be  too  much  alive  in 
us  ?  Is  not  everything,  however  trifling  it  seems, 
an  item  in  the  great  account,  which  it  is  of  in 
finite  importance,  therefore,  to  have  right  ?  A 
terrible  thing  is  that  you  have  said." 

"  That  may  be,"  said  Redclyffe;  "but  it  is 
none  the  less  certain  to  me,  that  the  efficient 
actors  —  those  who  mould  the  world  —  are  the 
persons  in  whom  something  else  is  developed 
more  strongly  than  conscience.  There  must 
be  an  invincible  determination  to  effect  some 
thing  ;  it  may  be  set  to  work  in  the  right  direc 
tion,  but  after  that  it  must  go  onward,  trampling 
down  small  obstacles  —  small  considerations  of 
right  and  wrong —  as  a  great  rock,  thundering 
down  a  hillside,  crushes  a  thousand  sweet  flow 
ers,  and  ploughs  deep  furrows  in  the  innocent 
hillside." 

As  Redclyffe  gave  vent  to  this  doctrine,  which 
269 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

was  not  naturally  his,  but  which  had  been  the 
inculcation  of  a  life  hitherto  devoted  to  politics, 
he  was  surprised  to  find  how  strongly  sensible 
he  became  of  the  ugliness  and  indefensibleness 
of  what  he  said.  He  felt  as  if  he  were  speak 
ing  under  the  eye  of  Omniscience,  and  as  if 
every  word  he  said  were  weighed,  and  its  empti 
ness  detected,  by  an  unfailing  intelligence.  He 
had  thought  that  he  had  volumes  to  say  about 
the  necessity  of  consenting  not  to  do  right  in  all 
matters  minutely,  for  the  sake  of  getting  out  an 
available  and  valuable  right  as  the  whole  ;  but 
there  was  something  that  seemed  to  tie  his 
tongue.  Could  it  be  the  quiet  gaze  of  this  old 
man,  so  unpretending,  so  humble,  so  simple  in 
aspect  ?  He  could  not  tell,  only  that  he  fal 
tered,  and  finally  left  his  speech  in  the  midst. 

But  he  was  surprised  to  find  how  he  had  to 
struggle  against  a  certain  repulsion  within  him 
self  to  the  old  man.  He  seemed  so  nonsen 
sical,  interfering  with  everybody's  right  in  the 
world  ;  so  mischievous,  standing  there  and  shut 
ting  out  the  possibility  of  action.  It  seemed 
well  to  trample  him  down  ;  to  put  him  out  of 
the  way  —  no  matter  how  —  somehow.  It  gave 
him,  he  thought,  an  inkling  of  the  way  in  which 
this  poor  old  man  had  made  himself  odious  to 
his  kind,  by  opposing  himself,  inevitably,  to 
what  was  bad  in  man,  chiding  it  by  his  very 
presence,  accepting  nothing  false.  You  must 
270 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

either  love  him  utterly,  or  hate  him  utterly  ; 
for  he  could  not  let  you  alone,  RedclyfFe,  being 
a  susceptible  man,  felt  this  influence  in  the 
strongest  way  ;  for  it  was  as  if  there  was  a  bat 
tle  within  him,  one  party  pulling,  wrenching 
him  towards  the  old  man,  another  wrenching 
him  away,  so  that,  by  the  agony  of  the  contest, 
he  felt  disposed  to  end  it  bv  taking  flight,  and 
never  seeing  the  strange  individual  again.  He 
could  well  enough  conceive  how  a  brutal  nature, 
if  capable  of  receiving  his  influence  at  all,  might 
find  it  so  intolerable  that  it  must  needs  get  rid 
of  him  by  violence,  —  by  taking  his  blood  if 
necessary. 

All  these  feelings  were  but  transitory,  how 
ever  ;  they  swept  across  him  like  a  wind,  and 
then  he  looked  again  at  the  old  man  and  saw 
only  his  simplicity,  his  unworldliness,  —  saw 
little  more  than  the  worn  and  feeble  individual 
in  the  Hospital  garb,  leaning  on  his  staff,  and 
then  turning  again  with  a  gentle  sigh  to  weed  in 
the  garden.  And  then  RedclyfFe  went  away, 
in  a  state  of  disturbance  for  which  he  could  not 
account  to  himself. 

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CHAPTER  XIX 

HIGH  up  in  the  old  carved  roof,  mean 
while,  the  spiders  of  centuries  still  hung 
their  flaunting  webs  with  a  profusion 
that  old  Doctor  Grimshawe  would  have  been 
ravished  to  see  ;  but  even  this  was  to  be  reme 
died,  for  one  day,  on  looking  in,  Redclyffe  found 
the  great  hall  dim  with  floating  dust,  and  down 
through  it  came  great  floating  masses  of  cob 
web,  out  of  which  the  old  Doctor  would  have 
undertaken  to  regenerate  the  world  ;  and  he 
saw,  dimly  aloft,  men  on  ladders  sweeping  away 
these  accumulations  of  years,  and  breaking  up 
the  haunts  and  residences  of  hereditary  spiders. 
The  stately  old  hall  had  been  in  process  of 
cleaning  and  adapting  to  the  banquet  purposes 
of  the  nineteenth  century,  which  it  was  accus 
tomed  to  subserve,  in  so  proud  a  way,  in  the 
sixteenth.  It  was,  in  the  first  place,  well  swept 
and  cleansed ;  the  painted  glass  windows  were 
cleansed  from  dust,  and  several  panes,  which 
had  been  unfortunately  broken  and  filled  with 
common  glass,  were  filled  in  with  colored  panes, 
which  the  Warden  had  picked  up  somewhere 
in  his  antiquarian  researches.  They  were  net, 
to  be  sure,  just  what  was  wanted,  —  a  piece  of 
272 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

a  saint,  from  some  cathedral  window,  supplying 
what  was  lacking  of  the  gorgeous  purple  of  a 
mediaeval  king ;  but  the  general  effect  was  rich 
and  good,  whenever  the  misty  English  atmo 
sphere  supplied  sunshine  bright  enough  to  per 
vade  it.  Tapestry,  too,  from  antique  looms, 
faded,  but  still  gorgeous,  was  hung  upon  the 
walls.  Some  suits  of  armor,  that  hung  beneath 
the  festal  gallery,  were  polished  till  the  old  bat 
tered  helmets  and  pierced  breastplates  sent  a 
gleam  like  that  with  which  they  had  flashed 
across  the  battlefields  of  old.1 

So  now  the  great  day  of  the  Warden's  din 
ner  had  arrived  ;  and,  as  may  be  supposed,  there 
were  fiery  times  in  the  venerable  old  kitchen. 
The  cook,  according  to  ancient  custom,  con 
cocted  many  antique  dishes,  such  as  used  to  be 
set  before  kings  and  nobles  ;  dainties  that  might 
have  called  the  dead  out  of  their  graves  ;  combi 
nations  of  ingredients  that  had  ceased  to  be  put 
together  for  centuries  ;  historic  dishes,  which 
had  long,  long  ceased  to  be  in  the  list  of  revels. 
Then  there  was  the  stalwart  English  cheer  of  the 
sirloin,  and  the  round ;  there  were  the  vast  plum 
puddings,  the  juicy  mutton,  the  venison  ;  there 
was  the  game,  now  just  in  season,  —  the  half- 
tame  wild  fowl  of  English  covers,  the  half-do 
mesticated  wild  deer  of  English  parks,  the  heath 
cock  from  the  far-off  hills  of  Scotland,  and  one 
little  prairie  hen  and  some  canvas-back  ducks 
273 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

—  obtained,  Heaven  knows  how,  in  compliment 
to  Redclyffe  —  from  his  native  shores.  O,  the 
old  jolly  kitchen  !  how  rich  the  flavored  smoke 
that  went  up  its  vast  chimney  !  how  inestima 
ble  the  atmosphere  of  steam  that  was  diffused 
through  it!  How  did  the  old  men  peep  into 
it,  even  venture  across  the  threshold,  braving 
the  hot  wrath  of  the  cook  and  his  assistants,  for 
the  sake  of  imbuing  themselves  with  these  rich 
and  delicate  flavors,  receiving  them  in  as  it  were 
spiritually  !  —  for,  received  through  the  breath 
and  in  the  atmosphere,  it  was  really  a  spiritual 
enjoyment.  The  ghosts  of  ancient  epicures 
seemed,  on  that  day  and  the  few  preceding  ones, 
to  haunt  the  dim  passages,  snuffing  in  with  shad 
owy  nostrils  the  rich  vapors,  assuming  visibil 
ity  in  the  congenial  medium,  almost  becoming 
earthly  again  in  the  strength  of  their  earthly 
longings  for  one  other  feast  such  as  they  used  to 
enjoy. 

Nor  is  it  to  be  supposed  that  it  was  only  these 
antique  dainties  that  the  Warden  provided  for 
his  feast.  No  ;  if  the  cook,  the  cultured  and 
recondite  old  cook,  who  had  accumulated  within 
himself  all  that  his  predecessors  knew  for  cen 
turies, —  if  he  lacked  anything  of  modern  fash 
ion  and  improvement,  he  had  supplied  his  defect 
by  temporary  assistance  from  a  London  club  ; 
and  the  bill  of  fare  was  provided  with  dishes  that 
Soyer  would  not  have  harshly  criticised.  The 
274 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

ethereal  delicacy  of  modern  taste,  the  nice  ad 
justment  of  flowers,  the  French  style  of  cookery, 
was  richly  attended  to ;  and  the  list  was  long 
of  dishes  with  fantastic  names,  fish,  fowl,  and 
flesh  ;  and  entremets,  and  "  sweets,"  as  the  Eng 
lish  call  them,  and  sugared  cates,  too  numerous 
to  think  of. 

The  wines  we  will  not  take  upon  ourselves  to 
enumerate  ;  but  the  juice,  then  destined  to  be 
quaffed,  was  in  part  the  precious  vintages  that 
had  been  broached  half  a  century  ago,  and  had 
been  ripening  ever  since ;  the  rich  and  dry  old 
port,  so  unlovely  to  the  natural  palate  that  it 
requires  long  English  seasoning  to  get  it  down  ; 
the  sherry,  imported  before  these  modern  days 
of  adulteration ;  some  claret,  the  Warden  said 
of  rarest  vintage  ;  some  Burgundy,  of  which  it 
was  the  quality  to  warm  the  blood  and  genialize 
existence  for  three  days  after  it  was  drunk.  Then 
there  was  a  rich  liquid  contributed  to  this  de 
partment  by  Redclyffe  himself;  for,  some  weeks 
since,  when  the  banquet  first  loomed  in  the  dis 
tance,  he  had  (anxious  to  evince  his  sense  of 
the  Warden's  kindness)  sent  across  the  ocean 
for  some  famous  Madeira  which  he  had  inher 
ited  from  the  Doctor,  and  never  tasted  yet. 
This,  together  with-some  of  the  Western  wines 
of  America,  had  arrived,  and  was  ready  to  be 
broached. 

The  Warden  tested  these  modern  wines,  and 
275 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

recognized  a  new  flavor,  but  £ave  it  only  a 
moderate  approbation  ;  for,  in  truth,  an  elderly 
Englishman  has  not  a  wide  appreciation  of  wines, 
nor  loves  new  things  in  this  kind  more  than  in 
literature  or  life.  But  he  tasted  the  Madeira, 
too,  and  underwent  an  ecstasy,  which  was  only 
alleviated  by  the  dread  of  gout,  which  he  had 
an  idea  that  this  wine  must  bring  on,  —  and 
truly,  if  it  were  so  splendid  a  wine  as  he  pro 
nounced  it,  some  pain  ought  to  follow  as  the 
shadow  of  such  a  pleasure. 

As  it  was  a  festival  of  antique  date,  the  dinner 
hour  had  been  fixed  earlier  than  is  usual  at  such 
stately  banquets ;  namely,  at  six  o'clock,  which 
was  long  before  the  dusky  hour  at  which  English 
men  love  best  to  dine.  About  that  period,  the 
carriages  drove  into  the  old  courtyard  of  the 
Hospital  in  great  abundance  ;  blocking  up,  too, 
the  ancient  portal,  and  remaining  in  a  line  outside. 
Carriages  they  were  with  armorial  bearings,  fam 
ily  coaches  in  which  came  Englishmen  in  their 
black  coats  and  white  neckcloths,  elderly,  white- 
headed,  fresh-colored,  squat ;  not  beautiful,  cer 
tainly,  nor  particularly  dignified,  nor  very  well 
dressed,  nor  with  much  of  an  imposing  air,  but 
yet,  somehow  or  other,  producing  an  effect  of 
force,  respectability,  reliableness,  trust,  which  is 
probably  deserved,  since  it  is  invariably  expe 
rienced.  Cold  they  were  in  deportment,  and 
iooked  coldly  on  the  stranger,  who,  on  his  part, 
276 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

drew  himself  up  with  an  extra  haughtiness  and 
reserve,  and  felt  himself  in  the  midst  of  his  en 
emies,  and  more  as  if  we  were  going  to  do  battle 
than  to  sit  down  to  a  friendly  banquet.  The 
Warden  introduced  him,  as  an  American  diplo 
matist,  to  one  or  two  of  the  gentlemen,  who 
regarded  him  forbiddingly,  as  Englishmen  do 
before  dinner. 

Not  long  after  Redclyffe  had  entered  the  re 
ception  room,  which  was  but  shortly  before  the 
hour  appointed  for  the  dinner,  there  was  an 
other  arrival  betokened  by  the  clatter  of  hoofs 
and  grinding  wheels  in  the  courtyard  ;  and  then 
entered  a  gentleman  of  different  mien  from  the 
bluff,  ruddy,  simple-minded,  yet  worldly  Eng 
lishmen  around  him.  He  was  a  tall,  dark  man, 
with  a  black  mustache  and  almost  olive  skin, 
a  slender,  lithe  figure,  a  flexible  face,  quick, 
flashing,  mobile.  His  deportment  was  graceful ; 
his  dress,  though  it  seemed  to  differ  in  little  or 
nothing  from  that  of  the  gentlemen  in  the  room, 
had  yet  a  grace  and  picturesqueness  in  his  mode 
of  wearing  it.  He  advanced  to  the  Warden, 
who  received  him  with  distinction,  and  yet,  Red- 
clyfFe  fancied,  not  exactly  with  cordiality.  It 
seemed  to  RedclyfFe  that  the  Warden  looked 
round,  as  if  with  the  purpose  of  presenting  Red 
clyfFe  to  this  gentleman,  but  he  himself,  from 
some  latent  reluctance,  had  turned  away  and 
entered  into  conversation  with  one  of  the  other 
277 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

gentlemen,  who  said  now,  looking  at  the  new 
comer,  "  Are  you  acquainted  with  this  last  ar 
rival  ?  " 

"  Not  at  all,"  said  Redclyffe.  "  I  know  Lord 
Braithwaite  by  sight,  indeed,  but  have  had  no 
introduction.  He  is  a  man,  certainly,  of  dis 
tinguished  appearance." 

"  Why,  pretty  well,"  said  the  gentleman,  "  but 
un-English,  as  also  are  his  manners.  It  is  a  pity 
to  see  an  old  English  family  represented  by  such 
a  person.  Neither  he,  his  father,  nor  grand 
father  was  born  among  us ;  he  has  far  more 
Italian  blood  than  enough  to  drown  the  slender 
stream  of  Anglo-Saxon  and  Norman.  His 
modes  of  life,  his  prejudices,  his  estates,  his  reli 
gion,  are  unlike  our  own  ;  and  yet  here  he  is  in 
the  position  of  an  old  English  gentleman,  pos 
sibly  to  be  a  peer.  You,  whose  nationality  em 
braces  that  of  all  the  world,  cannot,  I  suppose, 
understand  this  English  feeling."2 

"  Pardon  me,"  said  Redclyffe,  "  I  can  per 
fectly  understand  it.  An  American,  in  his  feel 
ings  towards  England^  has  all  the  jealousy  and 
exclusiveness  of  Englishmen  themselves, —  per 
haps,  indeed,  a  little  exaggerated." 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  said  the  Englishman 
incredulously.  "  I  think  you  cannot  possibly 
understand  it!"3 

The  guests  were  by  this  time  all  assembled, 
278 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

and  at  the  Warden's  bidding  they  moved  from 
the  reception  room  to  the  dining  hall,  in  some 
order  and  precedence,  of  which  Redclyffe  could 
not  exactly  discover  the  principle,  though  he 
found  that  to  himself —  in  his  quality,  doubt 
less,  of  Ambassador  —  there  was  assigned  a 
pretty  high  place.  A  venerable  dignitary  of  the 
Church — a  dean,  he  seemed  to  be  —  having 
asked  a  blessing,  the  fair  scene  of  the  banquet 
now  lay  before  the  guests,  presenting  a  splendid 
spectacle,  in  the  high-walled,  antique,  tapestried 
hall,  overhung  with  the  dark,  intricate  oaken 
beams,  with  the  high  Gothic  windows,  through 
one  of  which  the  setting  sunbeams  streamed, 
and  showed  the  figures  of  kings  and  warriors, 
and  the  old  Braithwaites  among  them.  Beneath 
and  adown  the  hall  extended  the  long  line  of 
the  tables,  covered  with  the  snow  of  the  damask 
tablecloth,  on  which  glittered,  gleamed,  and 
shone  a  good  quality  of  ancient  ancestral  plate, 
and  an  epergne  of  silver,  extending  down  the 
middle ;  also  the  gleam  of  golden  wine  in  the 
decanters;  and  truly  Redclyffe  thought  that  it 
was  a  noble  spectacle,  made  so  by  old  and  stately 
associations,  which  made  a  noble  banquet  of 
what  otherwise  would  be  only  a  vulgar  dinner. 
The  English  have  this  advantage,  and  know  how 
to  make  use  of  it.  They  bring — in  these  old, 
time-honored  feasts  —  all  the  past  to  sit  down 
279 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

and  take  the  stately  refreshment  along  with 
them,  and  they  pledge  the  historic  characters  in 
their  wine. 

A  printed  bill  of  fare,  in  gold  letters,  lay  by 
each  plate,  on  which  Redclyffe  saw  the  company 
glancing  with  great  interest.  The  first  dish,  of 
course,  was  turtle  soup,  of  which  —  as  the  gen 
tleman  next  him,  the  Mayor  of  a  neighboring 
town,  told  Redclyffe  —  it  was  allowable  to  take 
twice.  This  was  accompanied,  according  to  one 
of  those  rules  which  one  knows  not  whether  they 
are  arbitrary  or  founded  on  some  deep  reason, 
by  a  glass  of  punch.  Then  came  the  noble 
turbot,  the  salmon,  the  sole,  and  divers  of  fishes, 
and  the  dinner  fairly  set  in.  The  genial  War 
den  seemed  to  have  given  liberal  orders  to  the 
attendants,  for  they  spared  not  to  offer  hock, 
champagne,  sherry,  to  the  guests,  and  good  bit 
ter  ale,  foaming  in  the  goblet ;  and  so  the  stately 
banquet  went  on,  with  somewhat  tedious  mag 
nificence  ;  and  yet  with  a  fulness  of  effect  and 
thoroughness  of  sombre  life  that  made  Red 
clyffe  feel  that,  so  much  importance  being  as 
signed  to  it,  —  it  being  so  much  believed  in, — 
it  was  indeed  a  feast.  The  cumbrous  courses 
swept  by,  one  after  another ;  and  Redclyffe, 
finding  it  heavy  work,  sat  idle  most  of  the  time, 
regarding  the  hall,  the  old  decaying  beams,  the 
armor  hanging  beneath  the  galleries,  and  these 
Englishmen  feasting  where  their  fathers  had 
280 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

feasted  for  so  many  ages,  the  same  occasion,  the 
same  men,  probably,  in  appearance,  though  the 
black  coat  and  the  white  neckcloth  had  taken 
the  place  of  ruff,  embroidered  doublet,  and  the 
magnificence  of  other  ages.  After  all,  the  Eng 
lish  have  not  such  good  things  to  eat  as  we  in 
America,  and  certainly  do  not  know  better  how 
to  make  them  palatable.4 

Well ;  but  by  and  by  the  dinner  came  to  a 
conclusion,  as  regarded  the  eating  part;  the 
cloth  was  withdrawn  ;  a  dessert  of  fruits,  fresh 
and  dried,  pines,  hothouse  grapes,  and  all  can 
died  conserves  of  the  Indies,  was  put  on  the 
long  extent  of  polished  mahogany.  There  was 
a  tuning  up  of  musicians,  an  interrogative  draw 
ing  of  fiddle  bows,  and  other  musical  twangs  and 
puffs  ;  the  decanters  opposite  the  Warden  and 
his  vice  president  —  sherry,  port,  RedclyfFe's 
Madeira,  and  claret  —  were  put  in  motion 
along  the  table,  and  the  guests  filled  their  glasses 
for  the  toast  which,  at  English  dinner  tables,  is 
of  course  the  first  to  be  honored,  —  the  Queen. 
Then  the  band  struck  up  the  good  old  anthem, 
God  save  the  Queen,  which  the  whole  com 
pany  rose  to  their  feet  to  sing.  It  was  a  spec 
tacle  both  interesting  and  a  little  ludicrous  to 
RedclyfFe,  —  being  so  apart  from  an  American's 
sympathies,  so  unlike  anything  that  he  has  in 
his  life  or  possibilities, — this  active  and  warm 
sentiment  of  loyalty,  in  which  love  of  country 
281 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

centres,  and  assimilates,  and  transforms  itself 
into  a  passionate  affection  for  a  person,  in  whom 
they  love  all  their  institutions.  To  say  the 
truth,  it  seemed  a  happy  notion;  nor  could  the 
American  —  while  he  comforted  himself  in  the 
pride  of  his  democracy,  and  that  he  himself  was 
a  sovereign  —  could  he  help  envying  it  a  little, 
this  childlike  love  and  reverence  for  a  person 
embodying  all  their  country,  their  past,  their 
earthly  future.  He  felt  that  it  might  be  de 
lightful  to  have  a  sovereign,  provided  that  sov 
ereign  were  always  a  woman,  —  and  perhaps  a 
young  and  fine  one.  But,  indeed,  this  is  not 
the  difficulty,  methinks,  in  English  institutions 
which  the  American  finds  it  hardest  to  deal  with. 
We  could  endure  a  born  sovereign,  especially  if 
made  such  a  mere  pageant  as  the  English  make 
of  theirs.  What  we  find  it  hardest  to  conceive 
of  is,  the  satisfaction  with  which  Englishmen 
think  of  a  race  above  them,  with  privileges  that 
they  cannot  share,  entitled  to  condescend  to 
them,  and  to  have  gracious  and  beautiful  man 
ners  at  their  expense  ;  to  be  kind,  simple,  un 
pretending,  because  these  qualities  are  more 
available  than  haughtiness  ;  to  be  specimens  of 
perfect  manhood  ;  —  all  these  advantages  in  con 
sequence  of  their  position.  If  the  peerage  were 
a  mere  name,  it  would  be  nothing  to  envy ;  but 
it  is  so  much  more  than  a  name ;  it  enables 
men  to  be  really  so  superior.  The  poor,  the 
282 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

lower  classes,  might  bear  this  well  enough  ;  but 
the  classes  that  come  next  to  the  nobility, — 
the  upper  middle  classes,  —  how  they  bear  it 
so  lovingly  is  what  must  puzzle  the  American. 
But  probably  the  advantage  of  the  peerage  is 
the  less  perceptible  the  nearer  it  is  looked  at. 

It  must  be  confessed  that  Redclyffe,  as  he 
looked  at  this  assembly  of  peers  and  gentlemen, 
thought  with  some  self-gratulation  of  the  prob 
ability  that  he  had  within  his  power  as  old  a 
rank,  as  desirable  a  station,  as  the  best  of  them  ; 
and  that  if  he  were  restrained  from  taking  it,  it 
would  probably  only  be  by  the  democratic  pride 
that  made  him  feel  that  he  could  not,  retaining 
all  his  manly  sensibility,  accept  this  gewgaw  on 
which  the  ages  —  his  own  country  especially  — 
had  passed  judgment,  while  it  had  been  sus 
pended  over  his  head.  He  felt  himself,  at  any 
rate,  in  a  higher  position,  having  the  option 
of  taking  this  rank,  and  forbearing  to  do  so, 
than  if  he  took  it.5 

After  this  ensued  a  ceremony  which  is  of 
antique  date  in  old  English  corporations  and 
institutions,  at  their  high  festivals.  It  is  called 
the  Loving  Cup.  A  sort  of  herald  or  toast- 
master  behind  the  Warden's  chair  made  pro 
clamation,  reciting  the  names  of  the  principal 
guests,  and  announcing  to  them,  "  The  War 
den  of  the  Braithwaite  Hospital  drinks  to  you 
in  a  Loving  Cup  ;  "  of  which  cup,  having  sipped, 

283 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

or  seemed  to  sip  (for  Redclyffe  observed  that 
the  old  drinkers  were  rather  shy  of  it),  a  small 
quantity,  he  sent  it  down  the  table.  Its  pro 
gress  was  accompanied  with  a  peculiar  entangle 
ment  of  ceremony,  one  guest  standing  up  while 
another  drinks,  being  pretty  much  as  follows. 
First,  each  guest  receiving  it  covered  from  the 
next  above  him,  the  same  took  from  the  silver 
cup  its  silver  cover  ;  the  guest  drank  with  a 
bow  to  the  Warden  and  company,  took  the 
cover  from  the  preceding  guest,  covered  the 
cup,  handed  it  to  the  next  below  him,  then 
again  removed  the  cover,  replaced  it  after  the 
guest  had  drunk,  who,  on  his  part,  went  through 
the  same  ceremony.  And  thus  the  cup  went 
slowly  on  its  way  down  the  stately  hall  ;  these 
ceremonies  being,  it  is  said,  originally  precau 
tions  against  the  risk,  in  wild  times,  of  being 
stabbed  by  the  man  who  was  drinking  with  you, 
or  poisoned  by  one  who  should  fail  to  be  your 
taster.  The  cup  was  a  fine,  ancient  piece  of 
plate,  massive,  heavy,  curiously  wrought  with 
armorial  bearings,  in  which  the  leopard's  head 
appeared.  Its  contents,  so  far  as  Redclyffe  could 
analyze  them  by  a  moderate  sip,  appeared  to 
be  claret,  sweetened,  with  spices,  and,  however 
suited  to  the  peculiarity  of  antique  palates,  was 
not  greatly  to  Redclyffe's  taste.6 

Redclyffe's  companion  just  below  him,  while 
284 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

the  Loving  Cup  was  beginning  its  march,  had 
been  explaining  the  origin  of  the  custom  as  a 
defence  of  the  drinker  in  times  of  deadly  feud  ; 
when  it  had  reached  Lord  Braithwaite,  who 
drank  and  passed  it  to  Redclyffe  covered,  and 
with  the  usual  bow,  Redclyffe  looked  into  his 
Lordship's  Italian  eyes  and  dark  face  as  he  did 
so,  and  the  thought  struck  him,  that,  if  there 
could  possibly  be  any  use  in  keeping  up  this 
old  custom,  it  might  be  so  now ;  for,  how  inti 
mated  he  could  hardly  tell,  he  was  sensible  in 
his  deepest  self  of  a  deadly  hostility  in  this  dark, 
courteous,  handsome  face.  He  kept  his  eyes 
fixed  on  his  Lordship  as  he  received  the  cup, 
and  felt  that  in  his  own  glance  there  was  an  ac 
knowledgment  of  the  enmity  that  he  perceived, 
and  a  defiance,  expressed  without  visible  sign, 
and  felt  in  the  bow  with  which  they  greeted  one 
another.  When  they  had  both  resumed  their 
seats,  Redclyffe  chose  to  make  this  ceremonial 
intercourse  the  occasion  of  again  addressing  him. 

"  I  know  not  whether  your  Lordship  is  more 
accustomed  than  myself  to  these  stately  cere 
monials,"  said  he. 

"  No,"  said  Lord  Braithwaite,  whose  English 
was  very  good.  "  But  this  is  a  good  old  cere 
mony,  and  an  ingenious  one ;  for  does  it  not 
twine  us  into  knotted  links  of  love  —  this  Lov 
ing  Cup  —  like  a  wreath  of  Bacchanals  whom  I 

285 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

have  seen  surrounding  an  antique  vase.  Doubt 
less  it  has  great  efficacy  in  entwining  a  company 
of  friendly  guests  into  one  affectionate  society." 

"  Yes  ;  it  should  seem  so,"  replied  Redclyffe, 
with  a  smile,  and  again  meeting  those  black  eyes, 
which  smiled  back  on  him.  "  It  should  seem 
so,  but  it  appears  that  the  origin  of  the  custom 
was  quite  different,  and  that  it  was  as  a  safeguard 
to  a  man  when  he  drank  with  his  enemy.  What 
a  peculiar  flavor  it  must  have  given  to  the  liquor, 
when  the  eyes  of  two  deadly  foes  met  over  the 
brim  of  the  Loving  Cup,  and  the  drinker  knew 
that,  if  he  withdrew  it,  a  dagger  would  be  in  his 
heart,  and  the  other  watched  him  drink,  to  see 
if  it  was  poison  !  " 

"  Ah  !  "  responded  his  Lordship,  "  they  had 
strange  fashions  in  those  rough  old  times.  Now 
adays,  we  neither  stab,  shoot,  nor  poison.  I 
scarcely  think  we  hate  except  as  interest  guides 
us,  without  malevolence." 

This  singular  conversation  was  interrupted 
by  a  toast,  and  the  rising  of  one  of  the  guests 
to  answer  it.  Several  other  toasts  of  routine 
succeeded  ;  one  of  which,  being  to  the  honor  of 
the  old  founder  of  the  Hospital,  Lord  Braith- 
waite,  as  his  representative,  rose  to  reply,  — 
which  he  did  in  good  phrases,  in  a  sort  of  elo 
quence  unlike  that  of  the  Englishmen  around 
him,  and,  sooth  to  say,  comparatively  unaccus 
tomed  as  he  must  have  been  to  the  use  of  the 
?.86 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

language,  much  more  handsomely  than  they» 
In  truth,  Redclyffe  was  struck  and  amused  with 
the  rudeness,  the  slovenliness,  the  inartistic  qual 
ity  of  the  English  speakers,  who  rather  seemed 
to  avoid  grace  and  neatness  of  set  purpose,  as  if 
they  would  be  ashamed  of  it.  Nothing  could 
be  more  ragged  than  these  utterances  which  they 
called  speeches,  so  patched  and  darned  ;  and 
yet,  somehow  or  other  —  though  dull  and  heavy 
as  all  which  seemed  to  inspire  them  —  they  had 
a  kind  of  force.  Each  man  seemed  to  have  the 
faculty  of  getting,  after  some  rude  fashion,  at 
the  sense  and  feeling  that  was  in  him  ;  and  with 
out  glibness,  without  smoothness,  without  form 
or  comeliness,  still  the  object  with  which  each 
one  rose  to  speak  was  accomplished,  —  and  what 
was  more  remarkable,  it  seemed  to  be  accom 
plished  without  the  speaker's  having  any  partic 
ular  plan  for  doing  it.  He  was  surprised,  too, 
to  observe  how  loyally  every  man  seemed  to 
think  himself  bound  to  speak,  and  rose  to  do 
his  best,  however  unfit  his  usual  habits  made 
him  for  the  task.  Observing  this,  and  thinking 
how  many  an  American  would  be  taken  aback 
and  dumbfounded  by  being  called  on  for  a 
dinner  speech,  he  could  not  but  doubt  the  cor 
rectness  of  the  general  opinion,  that  Englishmen 
are  naturally  less  facile  of  public  speech  than 
our  countrymen. 

"  You  surpass  your  countrymen,"  said  Red- 
287 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

dyfTe,  when  his  Lordship  resumed  his  seat,  amid 
rapping  and  loud  applause. 

"  My  countrymen  ?  I  scarcely  know  whether 
you  mean  the  English  or  Italians,"  said  Lord 
Braithwaite.  "  Like  yourself,  I  am  a  hybrid, 
vith  really  no  country,  and  ready  to  take  up  with 
any." 

"  I  have  a  country,  —  one  which  I  am  little 
inclined  to  deny,"  replied  Redclyffe  gravely, 
while  a  flush  (perhaps  of  conscientious  shame) 
rose  to  his  brow. 

His  Lordship  bowed,  with  a  dark  Italian 
smile,  but  Redclyffe's  attention  was  drawn  away 
from  the  conversation  by  a  toast  which  the  War 
den  now  rose  to  give,  and  in  which  he  found 
himself  mainly  concerned.  With  a  little  preface 
of  kind  words  (not  particularly  aptly  applied) 
to  the  great  and  kindred  country  beyond  the 
Atlantic,  the  worthy  Warden  proceeded  to  re 
mark  that  his  board  was  honored,  on  this  high 
festival,  with  a  guest  from  that  new  world  ;  a 
gentleman  yet  young,  but  already  distinguished 
in  the  councils  of  his  country  ;  the  bearer,  he 
remarked,  of  an  honored  English  name,  which 
might  well  claim  to  be  remembered  here,  and  on 
this  occasion,  although  he  had  understood  from 
his  friend  that  the  American  bearers  of  this  name 
did  not  count  kindred  with  the  English  ones. 
This  gentleman,  he  further  observed,  with  con 
siderable  flourish  and  emphasis,  had  recently 
288 


DOCTOR  GRLMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

been  called  from  his  retirement  and  wanderings 
into  the  diplomatic  service  of  his  country,  which 
he  would  say,  from  his  knowledge,  the  gentle 
man  was  well  calculated  to  honor.  He  drank 
the  health  of  the  Honorable  Edward  Redclyffe, 
Ambassador  of  the  United  States  to  the  Court 
of  Hohen-Linden. 

Our  English  cousins  received  this  toast  with 
the  kindest  enthusiasm,  as  they  always  do  any 
such  allusion  to  our  country ;  it  being  a  festal 
feeling,  not  to  be  used  except  on  holidays.  They 
rose,  with  glass  in  hand,  in  honor  of  the  Am 
bassador  ;  the  band  struck  up  Hail,  Colum 
bia  ;  and  our  hero  marshalled  his  thoughts  as 
well  as  he  might  for  the  necessary  response,  and 
when  the  tumult  subsided  he  arose. 

His  quick  apprehending  had  taught  him 
something  of  the  difference  of  taste  between  an 
English  and  an  American  audience  at  a  dinner 
table ;  he  felt  that  there  must  be  a  certain  loose 
ness,  and  carelessness,  and  roughness,  and  yet  a 
certain  restraint ;  that  he  must  not  seem  to  aim 
at  speaking  well,  although,  for  his  own  ambition, 
he  was  not  content  to  speak  ill ;  that,  somehow 
or  other,  he  must  get  a  heartiness  into  his  speech ; 
that  he  must-  not  polish,  nor  be  too  neat,  and 
must  come  with  a  certain  rudeness  to  his  good 
points,  as  if  he  blundered  on  them,  and  were  sur 
prised  into  them.  Above  all,  he  must  let  the 
good  wine  and  cheer,  and  all  that  he  knew  and 
289 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

really  felt  of  English  hospitality,  as  represented 
by  the  kind  Warden,  do  its  work  upon  his  heart, 
and  speak  up  to  the  extent  of  what  he  felt  — 
and  if  a  little  more,  then  no  great  harm  —  about 
his  own  love  for  the  fatherland,  and  the  broader 
grounds  of  the  relations  between  the  two  coun 
tries.  On  this  system,  Redclyffe  began  to  speak ; 
and  being  naturally  and  habitually  eloquent,  and 
of  mobile  and  ready  sensibilities,  he  succeeded, 
between  art  and  nature,  in  making  a  speech  that 
absolutely  delighted  the  company,  who  made 
the  old  hall  echo,  and  the  banners  wave  and 
tremble,  and  the  board  shake,  and  the  glasses 
jingle,  with  their  rapturous  applause.  What  he 
said  —  or  some  shadow  of  it,  and  more  than  he 
quite  liked  to  own  —  was  reported  in  the  county 
paper  that  gave  a  report  of  the  dinner ;  but  on 
glancing  over  it,  it  seems  not  worth  while  to 
produce  this  eloquent  effort  in  our  pages,  the 
occasion  and  topics  being  of  merely  temporary 
interest. 

Redclyffe  sat  down,  and  sipped  his  claret, 
feeling  a  little  ashamed  of  himself,  as  people  are 
apt  to  do  after  a  display  of  this  kind. 

"  You  know  the  way  to  the  English  heart 
better  than  I  do,"  remarked  his  Lordship,  after 
a  polite  compliment  to  the  speech.  "  Methinks 
these  dull  English  are  being  improved  in  your 
atmosphere.  The  English  need  a  change  every 
few  centuries, —  either  by  immigration  of  new 
290 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

stock,  or  transportation  of  the  old,  —  or  else 
they  grow  too  gross  and  earthly,  with  their  beef, 
mutton,  and  ale.  I  think,  now,  it  might  bene 
fit  both  countries,  if  your  New  England  popu 
lation  were  to  be  reciprocally  exchanged  with  an 
equal  number  of  Englishmen.  Indeed,  Italians 
might  do  as  well." 

"  I  should  regret,"  said  Redclyffe,  "  to  change 
the  English,  heavy  as  they  are." 

"  You  are  an  admirable  Englishman,"  said  his 
Lordship.  "  For  my  part,  I  cannot  say  that  the 
people  are  very  much  to  my  taste,  any  more 
than  their  skies  and  climate,  in  which  I  have 
shivered  during  the  two  years  that  I  have  spent 
here." 

Here  their  conversation  ceased ;  and  Redclyffe 
listened  to  a  long  train  of  speechifying,  in  the 
course  of  which  everybody,  almost,  was  toasted  ; 
everybody  present,  at  all  events,  and  many  ab 
sent.  The  Warden's  old  wine  was  not  spared ; 
the  music  rang  and  resounded  from  the  gallery  ; 
and  everybody  seemed  to  consider  it  a  model 
feast,  although  there  were  no  very  vivid  signs 
of  satisfaction,  but  a  decorous,  heavy  enjoyment, 
a  dull  red  heat  of  pleasure,  without  flame.  Soda 
and  seltzer  water,  and  coffee,  by  and  by  were 
circulated  ;  and  at  a  late  hour  the  company  be 
gan  to  retire. 

Before  taking  his  departure,  Lord  Braithwaite 
resumed  his  conversation  with  Redclyffe,  and, 
291 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

as  it  appeared,  with  the  purpose  of  making  a 
hospitable  proposition. 

"  I  live  very  much  alone/'  said  he,  "  being 
insulated  from  my  neighbors  by  many  circum 
stances,  —  habits,  religion,  and  everything  else 
peculiarly  English.  If  you  are  curious  about 
old  English  modes  of  life,  I  can  show  you,  at 
least,  an  English  residence,  little  altered  within 
a  century  past.  Pray  come  and  spend  a  week 
with  me  before  you  leave  this  part  of  the  coun 
try.  Besides,  I  know  the  court  to  which  you 
are  accredited,  and  can  give  you,  perhaps,  use 
ful  information  about  it." 

Redclyffe  looked  at  him  in  some  surprise, 
.and  with  a  nameless  hesitation  ;  for  he  did  not 
like  his  Lordship,  and  had  fancied,  in  truth,  that 
there  was  a  reciprocal  antipathy.  Nor  did  he 
yet  feel  that  he  was  mistaken  in  this  respect ; 
although  his  Lordship's  invitation  was  given  in 
a  tone  of  frankness,  and  seemed  to  have  no  re 
serve,  except  that  his  eyes  did  not  meet  his  like 
Anglo-Saxon  eyes,  and  there  seemed  an  Italian 
looking  out  from  within  the  man.  But  Red 
clyffe  had  a  sort  of  repulsion  within  himself; 
and  he  questioned  whether  it  would  be  fair  to 
his  proposed  host  to  accept  his  hospitality,  while 
he  had  this  secret  feeling  of  hostility  and  repug 
nance,  —  which  might  be  well  enough  accounted 
for  by  the  knowledge  that  he  secretly  entertained 
hostile  interests  to  their  race,  and  half  a  purpose 
292 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

of  putting  them  in  force.  And,  besides  this, — 
although  Redclyffe  was  ashamed  of  the  feeling, 
—  he  had  a  secret  dread,  a  feeling  that  it  was 
not  just  a  safe  thing  to  trust  himself  in  this  man's 
power ;  for  he  had  a  sense,  sure  as  death,  that 
he  did  not  wish  him  well,  and  had  a  secret  dread 
of  the  American.  But  he  laughed  within  him 
self  at  this  feeling,  and  drove  it  down.  Yet  it 
made  him  feel  that  there  could  be  no  disloyalty 
in  accepting  his  Lordship's  invitation,  because 
it  was  given  in  as  little  friendship  as  it  would  be 
accepted. 

"  I  had  almost  made  my  arrangements  for 
quitting  the  neighborhood,"  said  he,  after  a 
pause ;  "  nor  can  I  shorten  the  week  longer 
which  I  had  promised  to  spend  with  my  very 
kind  friend,  the  Warden.  Yet  your  Lordship's 
kindness  offers  me  a  great  temptation,  and  I 
would  gladly  spend  the  next  ensuing  week  at 
Braithwaite  Hall." 

"  I  shall  expect  you,  then,"  said  Lord  Braith 
waite.  "  You  will  find  me  quite  alone,  except 
my  chaplain,  —  a  scholar,  and  a  man  of  the 
world,  whom  you  will  not  be  sorry  to  know." 

He  bowed  and  took  his  leave,  without  shak 
ing  hands,  as  an  American  would  have  thought 
it  natural  to  do,  after  such  a  hospitable  agree 
ment  ;  nor  did  Redclyffe  make  any  motion 
towards  it,  and  was  glad  that  his  Lordship  had 
omitted  it.  On  the  whole,  there  was  a  secret 
293 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

dissatisfaction  with  himself,  a  sense  that  he  was 
not  doing  quite  a  frank  and  true  thing  in  accept 
ing  this  invitation,  and  he  only  made  peace  with 
himself  on  the  consideration  that  Lord  Braith- 
waite  was  as  little  cordial  in  asking  the  visit  as 
he  in  acceding  to  it. 

294 


CHAPTER  XX 

THE  guests  were  now  rapidly  taking 
their  departure,  and  the  Warden  and 
Redclyffe  were  soon  left  alone  in  the 
antique  hall,  which  now,  in  its  solitude,  pre 
sented  an  aspect  far  different  from  the  gay  fes 
tivity  of  an  hour  before ;  the  duskiness  up  in 
the  carved  oaken  beams  seemed  to  descend  and 
fill  the  hall ;  and  the  remembrance  of  the  feast 
was  like  one  of  those  that  had  taken  place  cen 
turies  ago,  with  which  this  was  now  numbered, 
and  growing  ghostly,  and  faded,  and  sad,  even 
as  they  had  long  been. 

"  Well,  my  dear  friend,*'  said  the  Warden, 
stretching  himself  and  yawning,  "  it  is  over. 
Come  into  my  study  with  me,  and  we  will  have 
a  devilled  turkey  bone  and  a  pint  of  sherry  in 
peace  and  comfort." 

"  I  fear  I  can  make  no  figure  at  such  a  sup 
per,"  said  Redclyffe.  "  But  I  admire  your 
inexhaustibleness  in  being  ready  for  midnight 
refreshment  after  such  a  feast." 

"  Not  a  glass  of  good  liquor  has  moistened 

my  lips  to-night,"  said  the  Warden,  "  save  and 

except  such  as  was  supplied  by  a  decanter  of 

water  made  brown  with  toast ;  and  such  a  sip 

295 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

as  I  took  to  the  health  of  the  Queen,  and  an 
other  to  that  of  the  Ambassador  to  Hohen- 
Linden.  It  is  the  only  way,  when  a  man  has 
this  vast  labor  of  speechifying  to  do  ;  and  in 
deed  there  is  no  possibility  of  keeping  up  a  jolly 
countenance  for  such  a  length  of  time  except  on 


toast  water." 


They  accordingly  adjourned  to  the  Warden's 
sanctum,  where  that  worthy  dignitary  seemed 
to  enjoy  himself  over  his  sherry  and  cracked 
bones,  in  a  degree  that  he  probably  had  not 
heretofore ;  while  Redclyffe,  whose  potations 
had  been  more  liberal,  and  who  was  feverish 
and  disturbed,  tried  the  effect  of  a  little  brandy 
and  soda  water.  As  often  happens  at  such  mid 
night  symposiums,  the  two  friends  found  them 
selves  in  a  more  kindly  and  confidential  vein 
than  had  happened  before,  great  as  had  been 
the  kindness  and  confidence  already  grown  up 
between  them.  Redclyffe  told  his  friend  of 
Lord  Braithwaite's  invitation,  and  of  his  o\*n 
resolution  to  accept  it. 

"Why  not?  You  will  do  well,"  said  the 
Warden  ;  "  and  you  will  find  his  Lordship  an 
accustomed  host,  and  the  old  house  most  inter 
esting.  If  he  knows  the  secrets  of  it  himself, 
and  will  show  them,  they  will  be  well  worth  the 
seeing." 

"  I  have  had  a  scruple  in  accepting  this  invi* 
tation/'  said  Redclyffe. 

296 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

"  I  cannot  see  why,"  said  the  Warden.  "  1 
advise  it  by  all  means,  since  I  shall  lose  nothing 
by  it  myself,  as  it  will  not  lop  off  any  part  of 
your  visit  to  me." 

"  My  dear  friend,"  said  Redclyffe,  irresisti 
bly  impelled  to  a  confidence  which  he  had  not 
meditated  a  moment  before,  "  there  is  a  foolish 
secret  which  I  must  tell  you,  if  you  will  listen 
to  it ;  and  which  I  have  only  not  revealed  to 
you  because  it  seemed  to  me  foolish  and  dream 
like  ;  because,  too,  I  am  an  American,  and  a 
democrat;  because  I  am  ashamed  of  myself  and 
laugh  at  myself." 

"  Is  it  a  long  story  ?  "  asked  the  Warden. 

"  I  can  make  it  of  any  length,  and  almost  any 
brevity,"  said  RedclyfFe. 

"  I  will  fill  my  pipe  then,"  answered  the 
Warden,  "  and  listen  at  my  ease ;  and  if,  as  you 
intimate,  there  prove  to  be  any  folly  in  it,  I  will 
impute  it  all  to  the  kindly  freedom  with  which 
you  have  partaken  of  our  English  hospitality, 
and  forget  it  before  to-morrow  morning." 

He  settled  himself  in  his  easy-chair,  in  a 
most  luxurious  posture ;  and  Redclyffe,  who 
felt  a  strange  reluctance  to  reveal  —  for  the  first 
time  in  his  life  —  the  shadowy  hopes,  if  hopes 
they  were,  and  purposes,  if  such  they  could  be 
called,  with  which  he  had  amused  himself  so 
many  years,  begun  the  story  from  almost  the 
earliest  period  that  he  could  remember.  He 
297 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

told  even  of  his  earliest  recollection,  with  an  old 
woman,  in  the  almshouse,  and  how  he  had  been 
found  there  by  the  Doctor,  and  educated  by 
him,  with  all  the  hints  and  half-revelations  that 
had  been  made  to  him.  He  described  the  sin 
gular  character  of  the  Doctor,  his  scientific  pur 
suits,  his  evident  accomplishments,  his  great 
abilities,  his  morbidness  and  melancholy,  his 
moodiness,  and  finally  his  death,  and  the  sin 
gular  circumstances  that  accompanied  it.  The 
story  took  a  considerable  time  to  tell ;  and  after 
its  close,  the  Warden,  who  had  only  interrupted 
it  by  now  and  then  a  question  to  make  it 
plainer,  continued  to  smoke  his  pipe  slowly 
and  thoughtfully  for  a  long  while. 

"  This  Doctor  of  yours  was  a  singular  char 
acter,"  said  he,  "  Evidently,  from  what  you 
tell  me  as  to  the  accuracy  of  his  local  reminis 
cences,  he  must  have  been  of  this  part  of  the 
country, —  of  this  immediate  neighborhood, — 
and  such  a  man  could  not  have  grown  up  here 
without  being  known.  I  myself — for  I  am  an 
old  fellow  now  —  might  have  known  him  if  he 
lived  to  manhood  hereabouts." 

"  He  seemed  old  to  me  when  I  first  knew 
him,"  said  Redclyffe.  "  But  children  make  no 
distinctions  of  age.  He  might  have  been  forty- 
five  then,  as  well  as  I  can  judge." 

"  You  are  now  twenty  seven  or  eight,"  said 
the  Warden,  "  and  were  four  years  old  when 
298 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

you  first  knew  him.  He  might  now  be  sixty- 
five.  Do  you  know,  my  friend,  that  I  have 
something  like  a  certainty  that  I  know  who 
your  Doctor  was  ?  "  . 

"  How  strange  this  seems  !  "  exclaimed  Red- 
clyffe.  "  It  has  never  struck  me  that  I  should 
be  able  to  identify  this  singular  personage  with 
any  surroundings  or  any  friends." 

The  Warden,  to  requite  his  friend's  story, 
—  and  without  as  yet  saying  a  word,  good  or 
bad,  on  his  ancestral  claims,  —  proceeded  to  tell 
him  some  of  the  gossip  of  the  neighborhood, — 
what  had  been  gossip  thirty  or  forty  years  ago, 
but  was  now  forgotten,  or,  at  all  events,  seldom 
spoken  of,  and  only  known  to  the  old,  at  the 
present  day.  He  himself  remembered  it  only 
as  a  boy,  and  imperfectly.  There  had  been  a 
personage  of  that  day,  a  man  of  poor  estate, 
who  had  fallen  deeply  in  love  and  been  be 
trothed  to  a  young  lady  of  family  ;  he  was  a 
young  man  of  more  than  ordinary  abilities,  and 
of  great  promise,  though  small  fortune.  It  was 
not  well  known  how,  but  the  match  between 
him  and  the  young  lady  was  broken  off,  and  his 
place  was  supplied  by  the  then  proprietor  of 
Braithwaite  Hall  ;  as  it  was  supposed,  by  the 
artifices  of  her  mother.  There  had  been  cir 
cumstances  of  peculiar  treachery  in  the  matter, 
and  Mr.  Oglethorpe  had  taken  it  severely  to 
heart ;  so  severely,  indeed,  that  he  had  left  the 
299 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

country,  after  selling  his  ancestral  property, 
and  had  only  been  occasionally  heard  of  again. 
Now,  from  certain  circumstances,  it  had  struck 
the  Warden  that  this  might  be  the  mysterious 
Doctor  of  whom  Redclyffe  spoke.1 

"  But  why,"  suggested  Redclyffe,  "  should  a 
man  with  these  wrongs  to  avenge  take  such  an 
interest  in  a  descendant  of  his  enemy's  family  ?  " 

"  That  is  a  strong  point  in  favor  of  my  sup 
position,"  replied  the  Warden.  "  There  is  cer 
tainly,  and  has  long  been,  a  degree  of  proba 
bility  that  the  true  heir  of  this  family  exists  in 
America.  If  Oglethorpe  could  discover  him, 
he  ousts  his  enemy  from  the  estate  and  honors, 
and  substitutes  the  person  whom  he  has  dis 
covered  and  educated.  Most  certainly  there  is 
revenge  in  the  thing.  Should  it  happen  now, 
however,  the  triumph  would  have  lost  its  sweet- 
ness,  even  were  Oglethorpe  alive  to  partake  of 
it ;  for  his  enemy  is  dead,  leaving  no  heir,  and 
this  foreign  branch  has  come  in  without  Ogle- 
thorpe's  aid." 

The  friends  remained  musing  a  considerable 
time,  each  in  his  own  train  of  thought,  till  the 
Warden  suddenly  spoke. 

"  Do  you  mean  to  prosecute  this  apparent 
claim  of  yours  ?  " 

"  I  have  not  intended  to  do  so,"  said  Red 
clyffe. 

"  Of  course,"  said  the  Warden,  "  that  should 
300 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

depend  upon  the  strength  of  your  ground  ;  and 
I  understand  you  that  there  is  some  link  want 
ing  to  establish  it.  Otherwise,  I  see  not  how 
you  can  hesitate.  Is  it  a  little  thing  to  hold  a 
claim  to  an  old  English  estate  and  honors?" 

"  No  ;  it  is  a  very  great  thing,  to  an  Eng 
lishman  born,  and  who  need  give  up  no  higher 
birthright  to  avail  himself  of  it,"  answered  Red- 
clyffe.  "  You  will  laugh  at  me,  my  friend  ;  but 
I  cannot  help  feeling  that  I,  a  simple  citizen  of 
a  republic,  yet  with  none  above  me  except  those 
whom  I  help  to  place  there,  —  and  who  are 
my  servants,  not  my  superiors,  —  must  stoop  to 
take  these  honors.  I  leave  a  set  of  institutions 
which  are  the  noblest  that  the  wit  and  civiliza 
tion  of  man  have  yet  conceived,  to  enlist  my 
self  in  one  that  is  based  on  a  far  lower  concep 
tion  of  man,  and  which  therefore  lowers  every 
one  who  shares  in  it.  Besides,"  said  the 
young  man,  his  eyes  kindling  with  the  ambi 
tion  which  had  been  so  active  a  principle  in  his 
life,  "  what  prospects  —  what  rewards  for  spirited 
exertion  —  what  a  career,  only  open  to  an  Amer 
ican,  would  I  give  up,  to  become  merely  a  rich 
and  idle  Englishman,  belonging  (as  I  should) 
nowhere,  without  a  possibility  of  struggle,  such 
as  a  strong  man  loves,  with  only  a  mockery  of 
a  title,  which  in  these  days  really  means  no 
thing,  —  hardly  more  than  one  of  our  own  Hon- 
orables !  What  has  any  success  in  English  life 
301 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

to  offer  (even  were  it  within  my  reach,  which, 
as  a  stranger,  it  would  not  be)  to  balance  the 
proud  career  of  an  American  statesman?  " 

"  True,  you  might  be  a  President,  I  suppose," 
said  the  Warden  rather  contemptuously, — "a 
four  years'  potentate.  It  seems  to  me  an  of 
fice  about  on  a  par  with  that  of  the  Lord  Mayor 
of  London.  For  my  part,  I  would  rather  be 
a  baron  of  three  or  four  hundred  years'  anti 
quity." 

"  We  talk  in  vain,"  said  Redclyffe,  laughing. 
"  We  do  not  approach  one  another's  ideas  on 
this  subject.  But,  waiving  all  speculations  as 
to  my  attempting  to  avail  myself  of  this  claim, 
do  you  think  I  can  fairly  accept  this  invitation 
to  visit  Lord  Braithwaite  ?  There  is  certainly 
a  possibility  that  I  may  arraign  myself  against 
his  dearest  interests.  Conscious  of  this,  can  I 
accept  his  hospitality  ?  " 

The  Warden  paused.  "  You  Rave  not  sought 
access  to  his  house,"  he  observed.  "  You  have 
no  designs,  it  seems,  no  settled  designs  at  all 
events,  against  his  Lordship,  —  nor  is  there  a 
probability  that  they  would  be  forwarded  by 
your  accepting  this  invitation,  even  if  you  had 
any.  I  do  not  see  but  you  may  go.  The  only 
danger  is,  that  his  Lordship's  engaging  quali 
ties  may  seduce  you  into  dropping  your  claims 
out  of  a  chivalrous  feeling,  which  I  see  is  among 
your  possibilities.  To  be  sure,  it  would  be 
302 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

more  satisfactory  if  he  knew  your  actual  posi 
tion,  and  should  then  renew  his  invitation." 

"  I  am  convinced,"  said  Redclyffe,  looking 
up  from  his  musing  posture, "  that  he  does  know 
them.  You  are  surprised ;  but  in  all  Lord 
Braithwaite's  manner  towards  me  there  has  been 
an  undefinable  something  that  makes  me  aware 
that  he  knows  on  what  terms  we  stand  towards 
each  other.  There  is  nothing  inconceivable  in 
this.  The  family  have  for  generations  been  sus 
picious  of  an  American  line,  and  have  more  than 
once  sent  messengers  to  try  to  search  out  and 
put  a  stop  to  the  apprehension.  Why  should 
it  not  have  come  to  their  knowledge  that  there 
was  a  person  with  such  claims,  and  that  he  is 
now  in  England  ?  " 

"  It  certainly  is  possible,"  replied  the  Warden, 
"  and  if  you  are  satisfied  that  his  Lordship  knows 
it,  or  even  suspects  it,  you  meet  him  on  fair 
ground.  But  I  fairly  tell  you,  my  good  friend, 
that — his  Lordship  being  a  man  of  unknown 
principles  of  honor,  outlandish,  and  an  Italian 
in  habit  and  moral  sense — I  scarcely  like  to 
trust  you  in  his  house,  he  being  aware  that  your 
existence  may  be  inimical  to  him.  My  humble 
board  is  the  safer  of  the  two." 

"Pshaw!"  said  Redclyffe.  "You  English 
men  are  so  suspicious  of  anybody  not  regularly 
belonging  to  yourselves.  Poison  and  the  dag 
ger  haunt  your  conceptions  of  all  others.  In 
3°3 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

America  you  think  we  kill  every  third  man  with 
the  bowie  knife.  But,  supposing  there  were  any 
grounds  for  your  suspicion,  I  would  still  en 
counter  it.  An  American  is  no  braver  than  an 
Englishman  ;  but  still  he  is  not  quite  so  chary 
of  his  life  as  the  latter,  who  never  risks  it  except 
on  the  most  imminent  necessity.  We  take  such 
matters  easy.  In  regard  to  this  invitation,  I 
feel  that  I  can  honorably  accept  it,  and  there  are 
many  idle  and  curious  motives  that  impel  me  to 
it.  I  will  go." 

"  Be  it  so ;  but  you  must  come  back  to  me 
for  another  week,  after  finishing  your  visit," 
said  the  Warden.  "  After  all,  it  was  an  idle 
fancy  in  me  that  there  could  be  any  danger. 
His  Lordship  has  good  English  blood  in  his 
veins,  and  it  would  take  oceans  and  rivers  of 
Italian  treachery  to  wash  out  the  sterling  quality 
of  it.  And,  my  good  friend,  as  to  these  claims 
of  yours,  I  would  not  have  you  trust  too  much 
to  what  is  probably  a  romantic  dream  ;  yet,  were 
the  dream  to  come  true,  I  should  think  the 
British  peerage  honored  by  such  an  accession  to 
its  ranks.  And  now  to  bed  ;  for  we  have  heard 
the  chimes  of  midnight,  two  hours  agone." 

They  accordingly  retired;  and  RedclyfTewas 
surprised  to  find  what  a  distinctness  his  ideas 
respecting  his  claim  to  the  Braithwaite  honors 
had  assumed,  now  that  he,  after  so  many  years, 
had  imparted  them  to  another.  Heretofore, 
3°4 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

though  his  imagination  had  played  with  them  so 
much,  they  seemed  the  veriest  dreams  ;  now, 
they  had  suddenly  taken  form  and  hardened  into 
substance  ;  and  he  became  aware,  in  spite  of  all 
the  lofty  and  patriotic  sentiments  which  he  had 
expressed  to  the  Warden,  that  these  prospects 
had  really  much  importance  in  his  mind. 

Redclyffe,  during  the  few  days  that  he  was  to 
spend  at  the  Hospital,  previous  to  his  visit  to 
Braithwaite  Hall,  was  conscious  of  a  restlessness 
such  as  we  have  all  felt  on  the  eve  of  some 
interesting  event.  He  wondered  at  himself  at 
being  so  much  wrought  up  by  so  simple  a  thing 
as  he  was  about  to  do ;  but  it  seemed  to  him 
like  a  coming  home  after  an  absence  of  centu 
ries.  It  was  like  an  actual  prospect  of  entrance 
into  a  castle  in  the  air,  —  the  shadowy  threshold 
of  which  should  assume  substance  enough  to 
bear  his  foot,  its  thin,  fantastic  walls  actually 
protect  him  from  sun  and  rain,  its  hall  echo  with 
his  footsteps,  its  hearth  warm  him.  That  de 
licious,  thrilling  uncertainty  between  reality  and 
fancy,  in  which  he  had  often  been  enwrapt  since 
his  arrival  in  this  region,  enveloped  him  more 
strongly  than  ever  ;  and  with  it,  too,  there  came 
a  sort  of  apprehension,  which  sometimes  shud 
dered  through  him  like  an  icy  draught,  or  the 
touch  of  cold  steel  to  his  heart.  He  was  ashamed, 
too,  to  be  conscious  of  anything  like  fear  ;  yet 
he  would  not  acknowledge  it  for  fear ;  and  in- 
3°5 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

deed  there  was  such  an  airy,  exhilarating,  thrill 
ing  pleasure  bound  up  with  it,  that  it  could  not 
really  be  so. 

It  was  in  this  state  of  mind  that,  a  day  or  two 
after  the  feast,  he  saw  Colcord  sitting  on  the 
bench,  before  the  portal  of  the  Hospital,  in  the 
sun,  which  —  September  though  it  was  —  still 
came  warm  and  bright  (for  English  sunshine) 
into  that  sheltered  spot ;  a  spot  were  many  gen 
erations  of  old  men  had  warmed  their  limbs, 
while  they  looked  down  into  the  life,  the  torpid 
life,  of  the  old  village  that  trailed  its  homely  yet 
picturesque  street  along  by  the  venerable  build 
ings  of  the  Hospital. 

"  My  good  friend,"  said  Redclyffe,  "  I  am 
about  leaving  you,  for  a  time,  —  indeed,  with  the 
limited  time  at  my  disposal,  it  is  possible  that 
I  may  not  be  able  to  come  back  hither,  except 
for  a  brief  visit.  Before  I  leave  you,  I  would 
fain  know  something  more  about  one  whom  I 
must  ever  consider  my  benefactor." 

"Yes,"  said  the  old  man,  with  his  usual  be 
nignant  quiet,  "  I  saved  your  life.  It  is  yet  to 
be  seen,  perhaps,  whether  thereby  I  made  my 
self  your  benefactor.  I  trust  so." 

"  I  feel  it  so,  at  least,"  answered  Redclyffe, 
"  and  I  assure  you  life  has  a  new  value  for  me 
since  I  came  to  this  place ;  for  I  have  a  deeper 
hold  upon  it,  as  it  were,  —  more  hope  from  it, 
more  trust  in  something  good  to  come  of  it." 
306 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

"  This  is  a  good  change,  —  or  should  be  so," 
quoth  the  old  man. 

"  Do  you  know,"  continued  Redclyffe,  "  how 
long  you  have  been  a  figure  in  my  life?  " 

"  I  know  it,"  said  Colcord,  "  though  you 
might  well  have  forgotten  it." 

"  Not  so,"  said  Redclyffe.  "  I  remember,  as 
if  it  were  this  morning,  that  time  in  New  Eng 
land  when  I  first  saw  you." 

"  The  man  with  whom  you  then  abode,"  said 
Colcord,  "  knew  who  I  was." 

"  And  he  being  dead,  and  finding  you  here 
now,  by  such  a  strange  coincidence,"  said  Red 
clyffe,  "  and  being  myself  a  man  capable  of  tak 
ing  your  counsel,  I  would  have  you  impart  it  to 
me  ;  for  I  assure  you  that  the  current  of  my  life 
runs  darkly  on,  and  I  would  be  glad  of  any  light 
on  its  future,  or  even  its  present  phase." 

"  I  am  not  one  of  those  from  whom  the  world 
waits  for  counsel,"  said  the  pensioner,  "  and  I 
know  not  that  mine  would  be  advantageous  to 
you,  in  the  light  which  men  usually  prize.  Yet 
if  I  were  to  give  any,  it  would  be  that  you  should 
be  gone  hence." 

"  Gone  hence  !  "  repeated  Redclyffe,  sur 
prised.  "  I  tell  you  —  what  I  have  hardly 
hitherto  told  to  myself —  that  all  my  dreams, 
all  my  wishes  hitherto,  have  looked  forward  to 
precisely  the  juncture  that  seems  now  to  be  ap 
proaching.  My  dreaming  childhood  dreamt  of 
3°7 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

this.  If  you  know  anything  of  me,  you  know 
how  I  sprung  out  of  mystery,  akin  to  none,  a 
thing  concocted  out  of  the  elements,  without 
visible  agency  ;  how  all  through  my  boyhood  I 
was  alone  ;  how  I  grew  up  without  a  root,  yet 
continually  longing  for  one,  —  longing  to  be 
connected  with  somebody,  and  never  feeling  my 
self  so.  Yet  there  was  ever  a  looking  forward 
to  this  time  at  which  I  now  find  myself.  If  my 
next  step  were  death,  yet  while  the  path  seemed 
to  lead  toward  a  certainty  of  establishing  me  in 
connection  with  my  race,  I  would  take  it.  I 
have  tried  to  keep  down  this  yearning,  to  stifle 
it,  annihilate  it,  by  making  a  position  for  my 
self,  by  being  my  own  fact ;  but  I  cannot  over 
come  the  natural  horror  of  being  a  creature 
floating  in  the  air,  attached  to  nothing ;  ever 
this  feeling  that  there  is  no  reality  in  the  life 
and  fortunes,  good  or  bad,  of  a  being  so  uncon 
nected.  There  is  not  even  a  grave,  not  a  heap 
of  dry  bones,  not  a  pinch  of  dust,  with  which  I 
can  claim  kindred,  unless  I  find  it  here ! " 

"  This  is  sad,"  said  the  old  man,  — "  this 
strong  yearning,  and  nothing  to  gratify  it.  Yet, 
I  warn  you,  do  not  seek  its  gratification  here. 
There  are  delusions,  snares,  pitfalls,  in  this  life. 
I  warn  you,  quit  the  search." 

"  No,"  said  Redclyffe,  "  I  will  follow  the  mys 
terious  clue  that  seems  to  lead  me  on  ;  and,  even 
now,  it  pulls  me  one  step  further." 
308 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

"  How  is  that?  "  asked  the  old  man. 

"It  leads  me  onward  even  as  far  as  the  thresh 
old  —  across  the  threshold  —  of  yonder  man 
sion,"  said  Redclyffe. 

"  Step  not  across  it ;  there  is  blood  on  that 
threshold  !  "  exclaimed  the  pensioner.  "  A 
bloody  footstep  emerging.  Take  heed  that 
there  be  not  as  bloody  a  one  entering  in !  " 

"  Pshaw  !  "  said  Redclyffe,  feeling  the  ridicule 
of  the  emotion  into  which  he  had  been  betrayed, 
as  the  old  man's  wildness  o£  demeanor  made  him 
feel  that  he  was  talking  with  a  monomaniac. 
"  We  are  talking  idly.  I  do  but  go,  in  the  com 
mon  intercourse  of  society,  to  see  the  old  Eng 
lish  residence  which  (such  is  the  unhappy  ob 
scurity  of  my  position)  I  fancy,  among  a  thousand 
others,  may  have  been  that  of  my  ancestors. 
Nothing  is  likely  to  come  of  it.  My  foot  is 
not  bloody,  nor  polluted  with  anything  except 
the  mud  of  the  damp  English  soil." 

"  Yet  go  not  in  !  "  persisted  the  old  man. 

"  Yes,  I  must  go,"  said  RedclyfFe  determin 
edly,  "  and  I  will." 

Ashamed  to  have  been  moved  to  such  idle 
utterances  by  anything  that  the  old  man  could 
say,  Redclyffe  turned  away,  though  he  still  heard 
the  sad,  half-uttered  remonstrance  of  the  old 
man,  like  a  moan  behind  him,  and  wondered 
what  strange  fancy  had  taken  possession  of  him. 

The  effect  which  this  opposition  had  upon 
3°9 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

him  made  him  the  more  aware  how  much  his 
heart  was  set  upon  this  visit  to  the  Hall ;  how 
much  he  had  counted  upon  being  domiciliated 
there ;  what  a  wrench  it  would  be  to  him  to  tear 
himself  away  without  going  into  that  mansion, 
and  penetrating  all  the  mysteries  wherewith  his 
imagination,  exercising  itself  upon  the  theme 
since  the  days  of  the  old  Doctor's  fireside  talk, 
had  invested  it.  In  his  agitation  he  wandered 
forth  from  the  Hospital,  and,  passing  through 
the  village  street,  foi^nd  himself  in  the  park  of 
Braithwaite  Hall,  where  he  wandered  for  a  space, 
until  his  steps  led  him  to  a  point  whence  the 
venerable  Hall  appeared,  with  its  limes  and  its 
oaks  around  it ;  its  look  of  peace,  and  aged  re 
pose,  and  loveliness  ;  its  stately  domesticity,  so 
ancient,  so  beautiful ;  its  mild,  sweet  simplicity : 
it  seemed  the  ideal  of  home.  The  thought 
thrilled  his  bosom,  that  this  was  his  home,  — 
the  home  of  the  wild  Western  wanderer,  who 
had  gone  away  centuries  ago,  and  encountered 
strange  chances,  and  almost  forgotten  his  origin, 
but  still  kept  a  clue  to  bring  him  back ;  and  had 
now  come  back,  and  found  all  the  original  emo 
tions  safe  within  him.  It  even  seemed  to  him, 
that,  by  his  kindred  with  those  who  had  gone 
before,  —  by  the  line  of  sensitive  blood  linking 
him  with  that  final  emigrant,  —  he  could  re 
member  all  these  objects  ;  —  that  tree,  hardly 
more  venerable  now  than  then ;  that  clock 
310 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

tower,  still  marking  the  elapsing  time ;  that 
spire  of  the  old  church,  raising  itself  beyond. 
He  spread  out  his  arms  in  a  kind  of  rapture, 
and  exclaimed :  — 

"  O  home,  my  home,  my  forefathers'  home ! 
I  have  come  back  to  thee  !  The  wanderer  has 
come  back  !  " 

There  was  a  slight  stir  near  him  ;  and  on  a 
mossy  seat,  that  was  arranged  to  take  advan 
tage  of  a  remarkably  good  point  of  view  of  the 
old  Hall,  he  saw  Elsie  sitting.  She  had  her 
drawing  materials  with  her,  and  had  probably 
been  taking  a  sketch.  Redclyffe  was  ashamed 
of  having  been  overheard  by  any  one  giving  way 
to  such  idle  passion  as  he  had  been  betrayed 
into  ;  and  yet,  in  another  sense,  he  was  glad, — 
glad,  at  least,  that  something  of  his  feeling,  as 
yet  unspoken  to  human  being,  was  shared,  and 
shared  by  her  with  whom,  alone  of  living  beings, 
he  had  any  sympathies  of  old  date,  and  whom  he 
often  thought  of  with  feelings  that  drew  him 
irresistibly  towards  her. 

"  Elsie,"  said  he,  uttering  for  the  first  time 
the  old  name,  "  Providence  makes  you  my  confi 
dante.  We  have  recognized  each  other,  though 
no  word  has  passed  between  us.  Let  us  speak 
now  again  with  one  another.  How  came  you 
hither  ?  What  has  brought  us  together  again  ? 
—  Away  with  this  strangeness  that  lurks  be 
tween  us  !  Let  us  meet  as  those  who  began 
311 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

life  together,  and  whose  lifestrings,  being  so 
early  twisted  in  unison,  cannot  now  be  torn 
apart." 

"  You  are  not  wise,"  said  Elsie,  in  a  faltering 
voice,  "to  break  the  restraint  we  have  tacitly 
imposed  upon  ourselves.  Do  not  let  us  speak 
further  on  this  subject." 

"  How  strangely  everything  evades  me  !  " 
exclaimed  Redclyffe.  "  I  seem  to  be  in  a  land 
of  enchantment,  where  I  can  get  hold  of  no 
thing  that  lends  me  a  firm  support.  There  is 
no  medium  in  my  life  between  the  most  vulgar 
realities  and  the  most  vaporous  fiction,  too  thin 
to  breathe.  Tell  me,  Elsie,  how  came  you 
here  ?  Why  do  you  not  meet  me  frankly  ? 
What  is  there  to  keep  you  apart  from  the  old 
est  friend,  I  am  bold  to  say,  you  have  on  earth  ? 
Are  you  an  English  girl  ?  Are  you  one  of  our 
own  New  England  maidens,  with  her  freedom, 
and  her  know-how,  and  her  force,  beyond  any 
thing  that  these  demure  and  decorous  damsels 
can  know  ? " 

"  This  is  wild,"  said  Elsie,  struggling  for  com 
posure,  yet  strongly  moved  by  the  recollections 
that  he  brought  up.  "  It  is  best  that  we  should 
meet  as  strangers,  and  so  part." 

"  No,"  said  Redclyffe  ;  "  the  long  past  comes 

up,  with   its   memories,  and  yet   it  is   not   so 

powerful  as  the  powerful   present.     We   have 

met   again ;   our  adventures   have   shown  that 

312 


We  have  recognized  each  other 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

Providence  has  designed  a  relation  in  my  fate 
to  yours.  Elsie,  are  you  lonely  as  I  am  ?  " 

"  No,"  she  replied,  "  I  have  bonds,  ties,  a  life, 
a  duty.  I  must  live  that  life,  and  do  that  duty. 
You  have,  likewise,  both.  Do  yours,  lead  your 
own  life,  like  me." 

"  Do  you  know,  Elsie,"  he  said,  "  whither 
that  life  is  now  tending  ? " 

"  Whither  ?  "  said  she,  turning  towards  him. 

"  To  yonder  Hall,"  said  he. 

She  started  up,  and  clasped  her  hands  about 
his  arm. 

"  No,  no  !  "  she  exclaimed,  "  go  not  thither  ! 
There  is  blood  upon  the  threshold  !  Return  : 
a  dreadful  fatality  awaits  you  here." 

"  Come  with  me,  then,"  said  he,  "  and  I  yield 
my  purpose." 

"  It  cannot  be,"  said  Elsie. 

"Then  I,  too,  tell  you  it  cannot  be,"  re 
turned  RedclyfFe.2 

The  dialogue  had  reached  this  point,  when 
there  came  a  step  along  the  wood  path ;  the 
branches  rustled,  and  there  was  Lord  Braith- 
waite,  looking  upon  the  pair  with  the  ordinary 
slightly  sarcastic  glance  with  which  he  gazed 
upon  the  world. 

"  A  fine  morning,  fair  lady  and  fair  sir,"  said 
he.  "  We  have  few  such,  except  in  Italy." 


CHAPTER  XXI 

SO  Redclyffe  left  the  Hospital,  where  he 
had  spent  many  weeks  of  strange  and  not 
unhappy  life,  and  went  to  accept  the  in 
vitation  of  the  lord  of  Braithwaite  Hall.  It  was 
with  a  thrill  of  strange  delight,  poignant  almost 
to  pain,  that  he  found  himself  driving  up  to 
the  door  of  the  Hall,  and  actually  passing  the 
threshold  of  the  house.  He  looked,  as  he  stept 
over  it,  for  the  Bloody  Footstep,  with  which 
the  house  had  so  long  been  associated  in  his 
imagination ;  but  could  nowhere  see  it.  The 
footman  ushered  him  into  a  hall,  which  seemed 
to  be  in  the  centre  of  the  building,  and  where, 
little  as  the  autumn  was  advanced,  a  fire  was 
nevertheless  burning  and  glowing  on  the  hearth ; 
nor  was  its  effect  undesirable  in  the  somewhat 
gloomy  room.  The  servants  had  evidently  re 
ceived  orders  respecting  the  guest ;  for  they 
ushered  him  at  once  to  his  chamber,  which 
seemed  not  to  be  one  of  those  bachelor's  rooms, 
where,  in  an  English  mansion,  young  and  sin 
gle  men  are  forced  to  be  entertained  with  very 
bare  and  straitened  accommodations,  but  a  large, 
well,  though  antiquely  and  solemnly  furnished 
room,  with  a  curtained  bed,  and  all  manner  of 
3H 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

elaborate  contrivances  for  repose  ;  but  the  deep 
embrasures  of  the  windows  made  it  gloomy, 
with  the  little  light  that  they  admitted  through 
their  small  panes.  There  must  have  been  Eng 
lish  attendance  in  this  department  of  the  house 
hold  arrangements,  at  least ;  for  nothing  could 
exceed  the  exquisite  nicety  and  finish  of  every 
thing  in  the  room,  the  cleanliness,  the  attention 
to  comfort,  amid  antique  aspects  of  furniture, 
the  rich,  deep  preparations  for  repose. 

The  servant  told  RedclyfFe  that  his  master 
had  ridden  out,  and,  adding  that  luncheon  would 
be  on  the  table  at  two  o'clock,  left  him  ;  and 
RedclyfFe  sat  some  time  trying  to  make  out  and 
distinguish  the  feelings  with  which  he  found 
himself  here,  and  realizing  a  lifelong  dream. 
He  ran  back  over  all  the  legends  which  the 
Doctor  used  to  tell  about  this  mansion,  and 
wondered  whether  this  old,  rich  chamber  were 
the  one  where  any  of  them  had  taken  place  ; 
whether  the  shadows  of  the  dead  haunted  here. 
But,  indeed,  if  this  were  the  case,  the  apartment 
must  have  been  very  much  changed,  antique 
though  it  looked,  with  the  second,  or  third,  or 
whatever  other  numbered  arrangement,  since 
those  old  days  of  tapestry  hangings  and  rush- 
strewed  floor.  Otherwise  this  stately  and  gloomy 
chamber  was  as  likely  as  any  other  to  have  been 
the  one  where  his  ancestor  appeared  for  the  last 
time  in  the  paternal  mansion  ;  here  he  might 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

have  been  the  night  before  that  mysterious 
Bloody  Footstep  was  left  on  the  threshold, 
whence  had  arisen  so  many  wild  legends,  and 
since  the  impression  of  which  nothing  certain 
had  ever  been  known  respecting  that  ill-fated 
man,  —  nothing  certain  in  England,  at  least,  — 
and  whose  story  was  left  so  ragged  and  question 
able  even  by  all  that  he  could  add. 

Do  what  he  could,  Redclyffe  still  was  not 
conscious  of  that  deep  home  feeling  which  he 
had  imagined  he  should  experience  when,  if  ever, 
he  should  come  back  to  the  old  ancestral  place ; 
there  was  strangeness,  a  struggle  within  himself 
to  get  hold  of  something  that  escaped  him,  an 
effort  to  impress  on  his  mind  the  fact  that  he 
was,  at  last,  established  at  his  temporary  home 
in  the  place  that  he  had  so  long  looked  forward 
to,  and  that  this  was  the  moment  which  he  would 
have  thought  more  interesting  than  any  other 
in  his  life.  He  was  strangely  cold  and  indiffer 
ent,  frozen  up  as  it  were,  and  fancied  that  he 
would  have  cared  little  had  he  been  obliged  to 
leave  the  mansion  without  so  much  as  looking 
over  the  remaining  part  of  it. 

At  last,  he  became  weary  of  sitting  and  in 
dulging  this  fantastic  humor  of  indifference,  and 
emerged  from  his  chamber  with  the  design  of 
finding  his  way  about  the  lower  part  of  the 
house.  The  mansion  had  that  delightful  intri 
cacy  which  can  never  be  contrived,  never  be 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

attained  by  design,  but  is  the  happy  result 
where  many  builders,  many  designs,  —  many 
ages,  perhaps,  —  have  concurred  in  a  structure, 
each  pursuing  his  own  design.  Thus  it  was  a 
house  that  you  could  go  astray  in,  as  in  a  city, 
and  come  to  unexpected  places,  but  never,  until 
after  much  accustomance,  go  where  you  wished ; 
so  Redclyffe,  although  the  great  staircase  and 
wide  corridor  by  which  he  had  been  led  to  his 
room  seemed  easy  to  find,  yet  soon  discovered 
that  he  was  involved  in  an  unknown  labyrinth, 
where  strange  little  bits  of  staircases  led  up  and 
down,  and  where  passages  promised  much  in 
letting  him  out,  but  performed  nothing.  To  be 
sure,  the  old  English  mansion  had  not  much  of 
the  stateliness  of  one  of  Mrs.  Radcliffe's  castles, 
with  their  suites  of  rooms  opening  one  into 
another ;  but  yet  its  very  domesticity  —  its  look 
as  if  long  ago  it  had  been  lived  in  —  made  it 
only  the  more  ghostly  ;  and  so  Redclyffe  felt  the 
more  as  if  he  were  wandering  through  a  homely 
dream  ;  sensible  of  the  ludicrousness  of  his  posi 
tion,  he  once  called  aloud ;  but  his  voice  echoed 
along  the  passages,  sounding  unwontedly  to  his 
ears,  but  arousing  nobody.  It  did  not  seem  to 
him  as  if  he  were  going  afar,  but  were  bewildered 
round  and  round,  within  a  very  small  compass  ; 
a  predicament  in  which  a  man  feels  very  fool 
ish,  usually. 

As  he  stood  at  an  old  window,  stone-mul- 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

Honed,  at  the  end  of  a  passage  into  which  he  had 
come  twice  over,  a  door  near  him  opened,  and 
a  personage  looked  out  whom  he  had  not  before 
seen.  It  was  a  face  of  great  keenness  and  in 
telligence,  and  not  unpleasant  to  look  at,  though 
dark  and  sallow.  The  dress  had  something  which 
Redclyffe  recognized  as  clerical,  though  not  ex 
actly  pertaining  to  the  Church  of  England, — 
a  sort  of  arrangement  of  the  vest  and  shirt  collar ; 
and  he  had  knee  breeches  of  black.  He  did  not 
seem  like  an  English  clerical  personage,  how 
ever  ;  for  even  in  this  little  glimpse  of  him  Red- 
clyffe  saw  a  mildness,  gentleness,  softness,  and 
asking-of-leave  in  his  manner,  which  he  had  not 
observed  in  persons  so  well  assured  of  their 
position  as  the  Church  of  England  clergy. 

He  seemed  at  once  to  detect  Redclyffe's  pre 
dicament,  and  came  forward  with  a  pleasant 
smile,  speaking  in  good  English,  though  with  a 
somewhat  foreign  accent. 

"  Ah,  sir,  you  have  lost  your  way.  It  is  a 
labyrinthian  house  for  its  size,  this  old  English 
Hall,  —  full  of  perplexity.  Shall  I  show  you 
to  any  point? " 

"  Indeed,  sir,"  said  Redclyffe,  laughing,  "  I 
hardly  know  whither  I  want  to  go ;  being  a 
stranger,  and  yet  knowing  nothing  of  the  pub 
lic  places  of  the  house.  To  the  library,  per 
haps,  if  you  will  be  good  enough  to  direct  me 
thither." 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

"  Willingly,  my  dear  sir,"  said  the  clerical 
personage ;  "  the  more  easily,  too,  as  my  own 
quarters  are  close  adjacent;  the  library  being  my 
province.  Do  me  the  favor  to  enter  here." 

So  saying,  the  priest  ushered  Redclyffe  into 
an  austere-looking  yet  exceedingly  neat  study, 
as  it  seemed,  on  one  side  of  which  was  an  ora 
tory,  with  a  crucifix  and  other  accommodations 
for  Catholic  devotion.  Behind  a  white  curtain 
there  were  glimpses  of  a  bed,  which  seemed  ar 
ranged  on  a  principle  of  conventual  austerity 
in  respect  to  limits  and  lack  of  softness  ;  but 
still  there  was  in  the  whole  austerity  of  the 
premises  a  certain  character  of  restraint,  poise, 
principle,  which  Redclyffe  liked.  A  table  was 
covered  with  books,  many  of  them  folios  in  an 
antique  binding  of  parchment,  and  others  were 
small,  thick-set  volumes,  into  which  antique  lore 
was  rammed  and  compressed.  Through  an  open 
door,  opposite  to  the  one  by  which  he  had  en 
tered,  there  was  a  vista  of  a  larger  apartment, 
with  alcoves,  —  a  rather  dreary-looking  room, 
though  a  little  sunshine  came  through  a  win 
dow  at  the  further  end,  distained  with  colored 
glass. 

"  Will  you  sit  down  in  my  little  home  ?  " 
said  the  courteous  priest.  "  I  hope  we  may  be 
better  acquainted ;  so  allow  me  to  introduce 
myself.  I  am  Father  Angelo,  domestic  chap 
lain  to  his  Lordship.  You,  I  know,  are  the 
3*9 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

American  diplomatic  gentleman,  from  whom  his 
Lordship  has  been  expecting  a  visit/' 

Redclyffe  bowed. 

"  I  am  most  happy  to  know  you,"  continued 
the  priest.  "  Ah,  you  have  a  happy  country, 
most  catholic,  most  recipient  of  all  that  is  out 
cast  on  earth.  Men  of  my  religion  must  ever 
bless  it." 

"  It  certainly  ought  to  be  remembered  to  our 
credit,"  replied  Redclyffe,  "  that  we  have  shown 
no  narrow  spirit  in  this  matter,  and  have  not, 
like  other  Protestant  countries,  rejected  the 
good  that  is  found  in  any  man,  on  account  of 
his  religious  faith.  American  statesmanship 
comprises  Jew,  Catholic,  all." 

After  this  pleasant  little  acknowledgment, 
there  ensued  a  conversation  having  some  refer 
ence  to  books  ;  for  though  Redclyffe,  of  late 
years,  had  known  little  of  what  deserves  to  be 
called  literature,  —  having  found  political  life  as 
much  estranged  from  it  as  it  is  apt  to  be  with 
politicians,  —  yet  he  had  early  snuffed  the  musty 
fragrance  of  the  Doctor's  books,  and  had  learned 
to  love  its  atmosphere.  At  the  time  he  left  col 
lege,  he  was  just  at  the  point  where  he  might 
have  been  a  scholar ;  but  the  active  tendencies 
of  American  life  had  interfered  with  him,  as 
with  thousands  of  others,  and  drawn  him  away 
from  pursuits  which  might  have  been  better 
adapted  to  some  of  his  characteristics  than  the 
320 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

one  he  had  adopted.  The  priest  gently  felt  and 
touched  around  his  pursuits,  and  rinding  some 
remains  of  classic  culture,  he  kept  up  a  conver 
sation  on  these  points  ;  showing  him  the  pos 
sessions  of  the  library  in  that  department,  where, 
indeed,  were  some  treasures  that  he  had  discov 
ered,  and  which  seemed  to  have  been  collected 
at  least  a  century  ago. 

"  Generally,  however,"  observed  he,  as  they 
passed  from  one  dark  alcove  to  another,  "  the 
library  is  of  little  worth,  except  to  show  how 
much  of  living  truth  each  generation  contrib 
utes  to  the  botheration  of  life,  and  what  a  pub 
lic  benefactor  a  bookworm  is,  after  all.  There, 
now  !  did  you  ever  happen  to  see  one  ?  Here 
is  one  that  I  have  watched  at  work,  some  time 
past,  and  have  not  thought  it  worth  while  to 
stop  him." 

Redclyffe  looked  at  the  learned  little  insect, 
who  was  eating  a  strange  sort  of  circular  trench 
into  an  old  book  of  scholastic  Latin,  which 
probably  only  he  had  ever  devoured,  —  at  least 
ever  found  to  his  taste.  The  insect  seemed  in 
excellent  condition,  fat  with  learning,  having 
doubtless  got  the  essence  of  the  book  into  him 
self.  But  Redclyffe  was  still  more  interested  in 
observing  in  the  corner  a  great  spider,  which 
really  startled  him,  —  not  so  much  for  its  own 
terrible  aspect,  though  that  was  monstrous,  as 
because  he  seemed  to  see  in  it  the  very  great 
321 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

spider  which  he  had  known  in  his  boyhood;  that 
same  monster  that  had  been  the  Doctor's  famil 
iar,  and  had  been  said  to  have  had  an  influence 
in  his  death.  He  looked  so  startled  that  Father 
Angelo  observed  it. 

"  Do  not  be  frightened,'*  said  he  ;  "  though 
I  allow  that  a  brave  man  may  well  be  afraid  of 
a  spider,  and  that  the  bravest  of  the  brave  need 
not  blush  to  shudder  at  this  one.  There  is  a 
great  mystery  about  this  spider.  No  one  knows 
whence  he  came,  nor  how  long  he  has  been 
here.  The  library  was  very  much  shut  up  dur 
ing  the  time  of  the  last  inheritor  of  the  estate, 
and  had  not  been  thoroughly  examined  for  some 
years  when  I  opened  it,  and  swept  some  of  the 
dust  away  from  its  old  alcoves.  I  myself  was 
not  aware  of  this  monster  until  the  lapse  of 
some  weeks,  when  I  was  startled  at  seeing  him, 
one  day,  as  I  was  reading  an  old  book  here. 
He  dangled  down  from  the  ceiling,  by  the  cord 
age  of  his  web,  and  positively  seemed  to  look 
into  my  face. " 

"  He  is  of  the  species  Condetas,"  said  Red- 
clyffe,  —  "  a  rare  spider  seldom  seen  out  of  the 
tropic  regions." 

"  You  are  learned,  then,  in  spiders,"  observed 
the  priest,  surprised. 

"  I  could  almost  make  oath,  at  least,  that  I 
have  known  this  ugly  specimen  of  his  race," 
observed  RedclyfFe.  "  A  very  dear  friend,  now 
322 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

deceased,  to  whom  I  owed  the  highest  obliga 
tions,  was  studious  of  spiders,  and  his  chief 
treasure  was  one  the  very  image  of  this." 

"  How  strange  !"  said  the  priest.  "There 
has  always  appeared  to  me  to  be  something 
uncanny  in  spiders.  I  should  be  glad  to  talk 
further  with  you  on  this  subject.  Several  times 
I  have  fancied  a  strange  intelligence  in  this 
monster ;  but  I  have  natural  horror  of  him,  and 
therefore  refrain  from  interviews. " 

"  You  do  wisely,  sir,"  said  Redclyffe.  "  His 
powers  and  purposes  are  questionably  benefi 
cent,  at  best." 

In  truth,  the  many-legged  monster  made  the 
old  library  ghostly  to  him  by  the  associations 
which  it  summoned  up,  and  by  the  idea  that  it 
was  really  the  identical  one  that  had  seemed  so 
stuffed  with  poison,  in  the  lifetime  of  the  Doc 
tor,  and  at  that  so  distant  spot.  Yet,  on  reflec 
tion,  it  appeared  not  so  strange ;  for  the  old 
Doctor's  spider,  as  he  had  heard  him  say,  was 
one  of  an  ancestral  race  that  he  had  brought 
from  beyond  the  sea.  They  might  have  been 
preserved,  for  ages  possibly,  in  this  old  library, 
whence  the  Doctor  had  perhaps  taken  his  speci 
men,  and  possibly  the  one  now  before  him  was 
the  sole  survivor.  It  hardly,  however,  made  the 
monster  any  the  less  hideous  to  suppose  that 
this  might  be  the  case  ;  and  to  fancy  the  poison 
of  old  times  condensed  into  this  animal,  who 
323 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

might  have  sucked  the  diseases,  moral  and  phy 
sical,  of  all  this  family  into  him,  and  made 
himself  their  demon.  He  questioned  with  him 
self  whether  it  might  not  be  well  to  crush  him 
at  once,  and  so  perhaps  do  away  with  the  evil 
of  which  he  was  the  emblem. 

"  I  felt  a  strange  disposition  to  crush  this 
monster,  at  first,"  remarked  the  priest,  as  if  he 
knew  what  Redclyffe  was  thinking  of,  —  "a 
feeling  that  in  so  doing  I  should  get  rid  of  a 
mischief;  but  then  he  is  such  a  curious  mon 
ster.  You  cannot  long  look  at  him  without 
coming  to  the  conclusion  that  he  is  indestruc 
tible/' 

"  Yes  ;  and  to  think  of  crushing  such  a  deep- 
bowelled  monster  !  "  said  Redclyffe,  shudder 
ing.  "  It  is  too  great  a  catastrophe." 

During  this  conversation  in  which  he  was  so 
deeply  concerned,  the  spider  withdrew  himself, 
and  hand  over  hand  ascended  to  a  remote  and 
dusky  corner,  where  was  his  hereditary  abode. 

"  Shall  I  be  likely  to  meet  Lord  Braithwaite 
here  in  the  library  ?  "  asked  Redclyffe,  when  the 
fiend  had  withdrawn  himself.  "  I  have  not  yet 
seen  him  since  my  arrival." 

"  I  trust,"  said  the  priest,  with  great  courtesy, 
<c  that  you  are  aware  of  some  peculiarities  in  his 
Lordship's  habits,  which  imply  nothing  in  detri 
ment  to  the  great  respect  which  he  pays  all  his 
few  guests,  and  which,  I  know,  he  is  especially 
324 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

desirous  to  pay  to  you.  I  think  that  we  shall 
meet  him  at  lunch,  which,  though  an  English  in 
stitution,  his  Lordship  has  adopted  very  readily." 

"  I  should  hope,"  said  Redclyffe,  willing  to 
know  how  far  he  might  be  expected  to  comply 
with  the  peculiarities  —  which  might  prove  to 
be  eccentricities  —  of  his  host,  "  that  my  pre 
sence  here  will  not  be  too  greatly  at  variance 
with  his  Lordship's  habits,  whatever  they  may 
be.  I  came  hither,  indeed,  on  the  pledge  that, 
as  my  host  would  not  stand  in  my  way,  so 
neither  would  I  in  his." 

"  That  is  the  true  principle,"  said  the  priest, 
<f  and   here  comes   his   Lordship  in  person  to 
begin  the  practice  of  it." 
325 


CHAPTER  XXII 

ERD  BRAITHWAITE  came  into  the 
principal  door  of  the  library  as  the  priest 
was  speaking,  and  stood  a  moment  just 
upon  the  threshold,  looking  keenly  out  of  the 
stronger  light  into  this  dull  and  darksome  apart 
ment,  as  if  unable  to  see  perfectly  what  was  with 
in  ;  or  rather,  as  Redclyffe  fancied,  trying  to  dis 
cover  what  was  passing  between  those  two.  And, 
indeed,  as  when  a  third  person  comes  suddenly 
upon  two  who  are  talking  of  him,  the  two  gen 
erally  evince  in  their  manner  some  consciousness 
of  the  fact,  so  it  was  in  this  case,  with  Red 
clyffe  at  least,  although  the  priest  seemed  per 
fectly  undisturbed,  either  through  practice  of 
concealment,  or  because  he  had  nothing  to  con 
ceal. 

His  Lordship,  after  a  moment's  pause,  came 
forward,  presenting  his  hand  to  Redclyffe,  who 
shook  it,  and  not  without  a  certain  cordiality  ; 
till  he  perceived  that  it  was  the  left  hand,  when 
he  probably  intimated  some  surprise  by  a  change 
of  manner. 

"  I  am  an  awkward  person,"  said  his  Lord 
ship.  "  The  left  hand,  however,  is  nearest  the 
heart ;  so  be  assured  I  mean  no  discourtesy." 

326 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

"  The  Signer  Ambassador  and  myself,"  ob 
served  the  priest,  "  have  had  a  most  interesting 
conversation  (to  me,  at  least)  about  books  and 
bookworms,  spiders,  and  other  congruous  mat 
ters  ;  and  I  find  his  Excellency  has  heretofore 
made  acquaintance  with  a  great  spider  bear 
ing  strong  resemblance  to  the  hermit  of  our 
library." 

"  Indeed,"  said  his  Lordship.  "  I  was  not 
aware  that  America  had  yet  enough  of  age  and 
old  misfortune,  crime,  sordidness,  that  accumu 
late  with  it,  to  have  produced  spiders  like  this. 
Had  he  sucked  into  himself  all  the  noisomeness 
of  your  heat  ?  " 

Redclyffe  made  some  slight  answer,  that  the 
spider  was  a  sort  of  pet  of  an  old  virtuoso  to 
whom  he  owed  many  obligations  in  his  boy 
hood  ;  and  the  conversation  turned  from  this 
subject  to  others  suggested  by  topics  of  the  day 
and  place.  His  Lordship  was  affable,  and  Red 
clyffe  could  not,  it  must  be  confessed,  see  any 
thing  to  justify  the  prejudices  of  the  neighbors 
against  him.  Indeed,  he  was  inclined  to  at 
tribute  them,  in  great  measure,  to  the  narrow 
ness  of  the  English  view,  —  to  those  insular 
prejudices  which  have  always  prevented  them 
from  fully  appreciating  what  differs  from  their 
own  habits.  At  lunch,  which  was  soon  an 
nounced,  the  party  of  three  became  very  plea 
sant  and  sociable,  his  Lordship  drinking  a  light 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

Italian  red  wine,  and  recommending  it  to  Red- 
clyffe  ;  who,  however,  was  English  enough  to 
prefer  some  bitter  ale,  while  the  priest  contented 
himself  with  pure  water,  —  which  is,  in  truth,  a 
less  agreeable  drink  in  chill,  moist  England  than 
in  any  country  we  are  acquainted  with. 

"You  must  make  yourself  quite  at  home 
here,"  said  his  Lordship,  as  they  rose  from 
table.  "  I  am  not  a  good  host,  nor  a  very  gen 
ial  man,  I  believe.  I  can  do  little  to  entertain 
you  ;  but  here  is  the  house  and  the  grounds  at 
your  disposal,  —  horses  in  the  stable,  guns  in 
the  hall ;  here  is  Father  Angelo,  good  at  chess. 
There  is  the  library.  Pray  make  the  most  of 
them  all  ;  and  if  I  can  contribute  in  any  way 
to  your  pleasure,  let  me  know." 

All  this  certainly  seemed  cordial,  and  the 
manner  in  which  it  was  said  seemed  in  accord 
ance  with  the  spirit  of  the  words ;  and  yet, 
whether  the  fault  was  in  anything  of  morbid 
suspicion  in  Redclyffe's  nature,  or  whatever  it 
was,  it  did  not  have  the  effect  of  making  him 
feel  welcome,  which  almost  every  Englishman 
has  the  natural  faculty  of  producing  on  a  guest, 
when  once  he  has  admitted  him  beneath  his 
roof.  It  might  be  in  great  measure  his  face, 
so  thin  and  refined,  and  intellectual  without 
feeling  ;  his  voice,  which  had  melody,  but  not 
heartiness  ;  his  manners,  which  were  not  simple 
by  nature,  but  by  art ; — whatever  it  was,  Red- 
328 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

clyffe  found  that  Lord  Braithwaite  did  not  call 
for  his  own  naturalness  and  simplicity,  but  his 
art,  and  felt  that  he  was  inevitably  acting  a  part 
in  his  intercourse  with  him,  that  he  was  on  his 
guard,  playing  a  game  ;  and  yet  he  did  not  wish 
to  do  this.  But  there  was  a  mobility,  a  subtle 
ness  in  his  nature,  an  unconscious  tact,  —  which 
the  mode  of  life  and  of  mixing  with  men  in 
America  fosters  and  perfects,  —  that  made  this 
sort  of  finesse  inevitable  to  him,  with  any  but 
a  natural  character ;  with  whom,  on  the  other 
hand,  RedclyfFe  could  be  as  fresh  and  natural  as 
any  Englishman  of  them  all. 

Redclyffe  spent  the  time  between  lunch  and 
dinner  in  wandering  about  the  grounds,  from 
which  he  had  hitherto  felt  himself  debarred  by 
motives  of  delicacy.  It  was  a  most  interesting 
ramble  to  him,  coming  to  trees  which  his  ances 
tor,  who  went  to  America,  might  have  climbed 
in  his  boyhood,  might  have  sat  beneath,  with 
his  lady  love,  in  his  youth ;  deer  there  were, 
the  descendants  of  those  which  he  had  seen  :  old 
stone  stiles,  which  his  foot  had  trodden.  The 
sombre,  clouded  light  of  the  day  fell  down  upon 
this  scene,  which,  in  its  verdure,  its  luxuriance 
of  vegetable  life,  was  purely  English,  cultivated 
to  the  last  extent  without  losing  the  nature  out 
of  a  single  thing.  In  the  course  of  his  walk 
he  came  to  the  spot  where  he  had  been  so  mys 
teriously  wounded  on  his  first  arrival  in  this 
329 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

region  ;  and,  examining  the  spot,  he  was  startled 
to  see  that  there  was  a  path  leading  to  the  other 
side  of  a  hedge,  and  this  path,  which  led  to  the 
house,  had  brought  him  here. 

Musing  upon  this  mysterious  circumstance, 
and  how  it  should  have  happened  in  so  orderly 
a  country  as  England,  so  tamed  and  subjected 
to  civilization,  —  an  incident  to  happen  in  an 
English  park  which  seemed  better  suited  to  the 
Indian-haunted  forests  of  the  wilder  parts  of  his 
own  land, —  and  how  no  researches  which  the 
Warden  had  instituted  had  served  in  the  small 
est  degree  to  develop  the  mystery,  —  he  clam 
bered  over  the  hedge,  and  followed  the  foot 
path.  It  plunged  into  dells,  and  emerged  from 
them,  led  through  scenes  which  seemed  those 
of  old  romances,  and  at  last,  by  these  devious 
ways,  began  to  approach  the  old  house,  which, 
with  its  many  gray  gables,  put  on  a  new  aspect 
from  this  point  of  view.  Redclyffe  admired  its 
venerableness  anew,  the  ivy  that  overran  parts 
of  it,  the  marks  of  age  ;  and  wondered  at  the 
firmness  of  the  institutions  which,  through  all 
the  changes  that  come  to  man,  could  have  kept 
this  house  the  home  of  one  lineal  race  for  so 
many  centuries,  —  so  many,  that  the  absence  of 
his  own  branch  from  it  seemed  but  a  temporary 
visit  to  foreign  parts,  from  which  he  was  now 
returned,  to  be  again  at  home,  by  the  old 
hearthstone. 

330 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

"  But  what  do  I  mean  to  do  r  "  said  he  to 
himself,  stopping  short,  and  still  looking  at  the 
old  house.  "  Am  I  ready  to  give  up  all  the 
actual  life  before  me,  for  the  sake  of  taking  up 
with  what  I  feel  to  be  a  less  developed  state  of 
human  life  ?  Would  it  not  be  better  for  me  to 
depart  now,  to  turn  my  back  on  this  flattering 
prospect?  I  am  not  fit  to  be  here, —  I,  so 
strongly  susceptible  of  a  newer,  more  stirring 
life  than  these  men  lead  ;  I,  who  feel  that,  what 
ever  the  thought  and  cultivation  of  England 
may  be,  my  own  countrymen  have  gone  for 
ward  a  long,  long  march  beyond  them,  not  in 
tellectually,  but  in  a  way  that  gives  them  a 
further  start.  If  I  come  back  hither,  with  the 
purpose  to  make  myself  an  Englishman,  espe 
cially  an  Englishman  of  rank  and  hereditary 
estate,  then  for  me  America  has  been  discovered 
in  vain,  and  the  great  spirit  that  has  been  breathed 
into  us  is  in  vain ;  and  I  am  false  to  it  ajl !  " 

But  again  came  silently  swelling  over  him 
like  a  flood  all  that  ancient  peace,  and  quietude, 
and  dignity,  which  looked  so  stately  and  beau 
tiful  as  brooding  round  the  old  house  ;  all  that 
blessed  order  of  ranks,  that  sweet  superiority, 
and  yet  with  no  disclaimer  of  common  brother 
hood,  that  existed  between  the  English  gentle 
man  and  his  inferiors  ;  all  that  delightful  inter 
course,  so  sure  of  pleasure,  so  safe  from  rudeness, 
lowness,  unpleasant  rubs,  that  exists  between 

i 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

gentleman  and  gentleman,  where,  in  public  af 
fairs,  all  are  essentially  of  one  mind,  or  seem  so 
to  an  American  politician,  accustomed  to  the 
fierce  conflicts  of  our  embittered  parties  ;  where 
life  was  made  so  enticing,  so  refined,  and  yet 
with  a  sort  of  homeliness  that  seemed  to  show 
that  all  its  strength  was  left  behind  ;  that  seem 
ing  taking  in  of  all  that  was  desirable  in  life, 
and  all  its  grace  and  beauty,  yet  never  giving 
life  a  hard  enamel  of  over-refinement.  What 
could  there  be  in  the  wild,  harsh,  ill-conducted 
American  approach  to  civilization,  which  could 
compare  with  this  ?  What  to  compare  with 
this  juiciness  and  richness  ?  What  other  men 
had  ever  got  so  much  out  of  life  as  the  polished 
and  wealthy  Englishmen  of  to-day  ?  WThat 
higher  part  was  to  be  acted  than  seemed  to  lie 
before  him,  if  he  willed  to  accept  it  ? 

He  resumed  his  walk,  and,  drawing  near  the 
manor  house,  found  that  he  was  approaching 
another  entrance  than  that  which  had  at  first 
admitted  him  ;  a  very  pleasant  entrance  it  was, 
beneath  a  porch,  of  antique  form,  and  ivy-clad, 
hospitable  and  inviting  ;  and  it  being  the  ap 
proach  from  the  grounds,  it  seemed  to  be  more 
appropriate  to  the  residents  of  the  house  than 
the  other  one.  Drawing  near,  Redclyffe  saw 
that  a  flight  of  steps  ascended  within  the  porch, 
old  looking,  much  worn  ;  and  nothing  is  more 
suggestive  of  long  time  than  a  flight  of  worn 
332 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

steps  ;  it  must  have  taken  so  many  soles,  through 
so  many  years,  to  make  an  impression.  Judg 
ing  from  the  make  of  the  outside  of  the  edifice, 
Redclyffe  thought  that  he  could  make  out  the 
way  from  the  porch  to  the  hall  and  library ;  so 
he  determined  to  enter  this  way. 

There  had  been,  as  was  not  unusual,  a  little 
shower  of  rain  during  the  afternoon  ;  and  as 
Redclyffe  came  close  to  the  steps,  they  were 
glistening  with  the  wet.  The  stones  were  whit 
ish,  like  marble,  and  one  of  them  bore  on  it  a 
token  that  made  him  pause,  while  a  thrill  like 
terror  ran  through  his  system.  For  it  was  the 
mark  of  a  footstep,  very  decidedly  made  out, 

and  red,  like  blood,  —  the  Bloody  Footstep, 

the  mark  of  a  foot,  which  seemed  to  have  been 
slightly  impressed  into  the  rock,  as  if  it  had  been 
a  soft  substance,  at  the  same  time  sliding  a  little, 
and  gushing  with  blood.  The  glistening  mois 
ture  of  which  we  have  spoken  made  it  appear  as 
if  it  were  just  freshly  stamped  there  ;  and  it  sug 
gested  to  Redclyffe's  fancy  the  idea,  that,  im 
pressed  more  than  two  centuries  ago,  there  was 
some  charm  connected  with  the  mark  which  kept 
it  still  fresh,  and  would  continue  to  do  so  to  the 
end  of  time.  It  was  well  that  there  was  no 
spectator  there,  for  the  American  would  have 
blushed  to  have  it  known  how  much  this  old 
traditionary  wonder  had  affected  his  imagination. 
But,  indeed,  it  was  as  old  as  any  bugbear  of  his 
333 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

mind,  —  as  any  of  those  bugbears  and  private 
terrors  which  grow  up  with  people,  and  make 
the  dreams  and  nightmares  of  childhood,  and 
the  fever  images  of  mature  years,  till  they  haunt 
the  deliriums  of  the  dying  bed,  and  after  that, 
possibly,  are  either  realized  or  known  no  more. 
The  Doctor's  strange  story  vividly  recurred  to 
him,  and  all  the  horrors  which  he  had  since 
associated  with  this  trace;  and  it  seemed  to  him 
as  if  he  had  now  struck  upon  a  bloody  track, 
and  as  if  there  were  other  tracks  of  this  super 
natural  foot  which  he  was  bound  to  search  out ; 
removing  the  dust  of  ages  that  had  settled  on 
them,  the  moss  and  deep  grass  that  had  grown 
over  them,  the  forest  leaves  that  might  have 
fallen  on  them  in  America, —  marking  out  the 
pathway,  till  the  pedestrian  lay  down  in  his 
grave. 

The  foot  was  issuing  from,  not  entering  into, 
the  house.  Whoever  had  impressed  it,  or  on 
whatever  occasion,  he  had  gone  forth,  and  doubt 
less  to  return  no  more.  Redclyffe  was  impelled 
to  place  his  own  foot  on  the  track  ;  and  the 
action,  as  it  were,  suggested  in  itself  strange 
ideas  of  what  had  been  the  state  of  mind  of  the 
man  who  planted  it  there  ;  and  he  felt  a  strange, 
vague,  yet  strong  surmise  of  some  agony,  some 
terror  and  horror,  that  had  passed  here,  and 
would  not  fade  out  of  the  spot.  While  he  was 
in  these  musings,  he  saw  Lord  Braithwaite  look- 
334 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

ing  at  him  through  the  glass  of  the  porch,  with 
fixed,  curious  eyes,  and  a  smile  on  his  face.  On 
perceiving  that  RedclyrTe  was  aware  of  his  pre 
sence,  he  came  forth  without  appearing  in  the 
least  disturbed. 

"  What  think  you  of  the  Bloody  Footstep  ?  " 
asked  he. 

"It  seems  to  me,  undoubtedly/'  said  Red 
clyrTe,  stooping  to  examine  it  more  closely,  "  a 
good  thing  to  make  a  legend  out  of;  and,  like 
most  legendary  lore,  not  capable  of  bearing  close 
examination.  I  should  decidedly  say  that  the 
Bloody  Footstep  is  a  natural  reddish  stain  in 
the  stone." 

"  Do  you  think  so,  indeed  ?  "  rejoined  his 
Lordship.  "  It  may  be  ;  but  in  that  case,  if  not 
the  record  of  an  actual  deed,  —  of  a  foot  stamped 
down  there  in  guilt  and  agony,  and  oozing  out 
with  unwipeupable  blood,  —  we  may  consider 
it  as  prophetic  ;  —  as  foreboding,  from  the  time 
when  the  stone  was  squared  and  smoothed,  and 
laid  at  this  threshold,  that  a  fatal  footstep  was 
really  to  be  impressed  here." 

"  It  is  an  ingenious  supposition,"  said  Red- 
clyffe.  "  But  is  there  any  sure  knowledge  that 
the  prophecy  you  suppose  has  yet  been  ful 
filled?" 

"  If  not,  it  might  yet  be  in  the  future,"  said 
Lord  Braithwaite.  "  But  I  think  there  are 
enough  in  the  records  of  this  family  to  prove 
335 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

tnat  there  did  one  cross  this  threshold  in  a  bloody 
agony,  who  has  since  returned  no  more.  Great 
seekings,  I  have  understood,  have  been  had 
throughout  the  world  for  him,  or  for  any  sign 
of  him,  but  nothing  satisfactory  has  been  heard." 

"  And  it  is  now  too  late  to  expect  it,"  ob 
served  the  American. 

"  Perhaps  not,"  replied  the  nobleman,  with 
a  glance  that  Redclyffe  thought  had  peculiar 
meaning  in  it.  "Ah  !  it  is  very  curious  to  see 
what  turnings  up  there  are  in  this  world  of  old 
circumstances  that  seem  buried  forever ;  how 
things  come  back,  like  echoes  that  have  rolled 
away  among  the  hills  and  been  seemingly  hushed 
forever.  We  cannot  tell  when  a  thing  is  really 
dead  ;  it  comes  to  life,  perhaps  in  its  old  shape, 
perhaps  in  a  new  and  unexpected  one  ;  so  that 
nothing  really  vanishes  out  of  the  world.  I 
wish  it  did." 

The  conversation  now  ceased,  and  Redclyffe 
entered  the  house,  where  he  amused  himself  for 
some  time  in  looking  at  the  ancient  hall,  with 
its  gallery,  its  armor,  and  its  antique  fireplace, 
on  the  hearth  of  which  burned  a  genial  fire. 
He  wondered  whether  in  that  fire  was  the  con 
tinuance  of  that  custom  which  the  Doctor's  leg 
end  spoke  of,  and  whether  the  flame  had  been 
kept  up  there  two  hundred  years,  in  expectation 
of  the  wanderer's  return.  It  might  be  so,  al 
though  the  climate  of  England  made  it  a  natural 

336 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

custom  enough,  in  a  large  and  damp  old  room, 
into  which  many  doors  opened,  both  from  the 
exterior  and  interior  of  the  mansion  ;  but  it  was 
pleasant  to  think  the  custom  a  traditionary  one, 
and  to  fancy  that  a  booted  figure,  enveloped  in 
a  cloak,  might  still  arrive,  and  fling  open  the 
veiling  cloak,  throw  off  the  sombre  and  droop- 
ing-brimmed  hat,  and  show  features  that  were 
similar  to  those  seen  in  pictured  faces  on  the 
walls.  Was  he  himself —  in  another  guise,  as 
Lord  Braithwaite  had  been  saying  —  that  long- 
expected  one  ?  Was  his  the  echoing  tread  that 
had  been  heard  so  long  through  the  ages  —  sc 
far  through  the  wide  world  —  approaching  the 
blood-stained  threshold  ? 

With  such  thoughts,  or  dreams  (for  they  were 
hardly  sincerely  enough  entertained  to  be  called 
thoughts),  Redclyffe  spent  the  day  ;  a  strange, 
delicious  day,  in  spite  of  the  sombre  shadows 
that  enveloped  it.  He  fancied  himself  strangely 
wonted,  already,  to  the  house,  as  if  his  every 
part  and  peculiarity  had  at  once  fitted  into  its 
nooks,  and  corners,  and  crannies  ;  but,  indeed, 
his  mobile  nature  and  active  fancy  were  not  en 
tirely  to  be  trusted  in  this  matter ;  it  was,  per 
haps,  his  American  faculty  of  making  himself  at 
home  anywhere,  that  he  mistook  for  the  feeling 
of  being  peculiarly  at  home  herec 
337 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

KLDCLYFFE  was  now  established  in  the 
great  house  which  had  been  so  long  and 
so  singularly  an  object  of  interest  with 
him.  With  his  customary  impressibility  by  the 
influences  around  him,  he  begun  to  take  in  the 
circumstances,  and  to  understand  them  by  more 
subtile  tokens  than  he  could  well  explain  to 
himself.  There  was  the  steward,1  or  whatever 
was  his  precise  office  ;  so  quiet,  so  subdued,  so 
nervous,  so  strange  !  What  had  been  this  man's 
history  ?  What  was  now  the  secret  of  his  daily 
life  ?  There  he  was,  creeping  stealthily  up  and 
down  the  staircases,  and  about  the  passages  of 
the  house  ;  always  as  if  he  were  afraid  of  meet 
ing  somebody.  On  seeing  Redclyffe  in  the 
house,  the  latter  fancied  that  the  man  expressed 
a  kind  of  interest  in  his  face,  but  whether  plea 
sure  or  pain  he  could  not  well  tell ;  only  he 
sometimes  found  that  he  was  contemplating  him 
from  a  distance,  or  from  the  obscurity  of  the 
room  in  which  he  sat,  or  from  a  corridor,  while 
he  smoked  his  cigar  on  the  lawn.  A  great  part, 
if  not  the  whole  of  this,  he  imputed  to  his 
knowledge  of  RedclyfFe's  connections  with  the 
Doctor  ;  but  yet  this  hardly  seemed  sufficient 

338 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

to  account  for  the  pertinacity  with  which  the  old 
man  haunted  his  footsteps,  —  the  poor,  nervous 
old  thing,  —  always  near  him,  or  often  unex 
pectedly  so  ;  and  yet  apparently  not  very  will 
ing  to  hold  conversation  with  him,  having  no 
thing  of  importance  to  say. 

"  Mr.  Omskirk,"  said  Redclyffe  to  him,  a  day 
or  two  after  the  commencement  of  his  visit, 
"  how  many  years  have  you  now  been  in  this 
situation  ?  " 

"  O,sir,  ever  since  the  Doctor's  departure  for 
America,"  said  Omskirk,  "  now  thirty  and  five 
years,  five  months,  and  three  days." 

"  A  long  time,"  said  RedclyfFe,  smiling,  "  and 
you  seem  to  keep  the  account  of  it  very  accu 
rately." 

"  A  very  long  time,  your  honor,"  said  Oms 
kirk  ;  "  so  long,  that  I  seem  to  have  lived  one 
life  before  it  began,  and  I  cannot  think  of  any 
life  than  just  what  I  had.  My  life  was  broken 
off  short  in  the  midst,  and  what  belonged  to  the 
earlier  part  of  it  was  another  man's  life  ;  this  is 
mine." 

"  It  might  be  a  pleasant  life  enough,  I  should 
think,  in  this  fine  old  Hall,"  said  Redclyffe  ; 
"  rather  monotonous,  however.  Would  you  not 
like  a  relaxation  of  a  few  days,  a  pleasure  trip, 
in  all  these  thirty-five  years  ?  You  old  English 
men  are  so  sturdily  faithful  to  one  thing.  You 
do  not  resemble  my  countrymen  in  that." 
339 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

"  O,  none  of  them  ever  lived  in  an  old  man 
sion  house  like  this,"  replied  Omskirk ;  "  they 
do  not  know  the  sort  of  habits  that  a  man  gets 
here.  They  do  not  know  my  business  either, 
nor  any  man's  here." 

"  Is  your  master,  then,  so  difficult  ?  "  said 
Redclyffe. 

"  My  master  !  Who  was  speaking  of  him  ?  " 
said  the  old  man,  as  if  surprised.  "  Ah,  I  was 
thinking  of  Doctor  Grimshawe.  He  was  my 
master,  you  know." 

And  Redclyffe  was  again  inconceivably  struck 
with  the  strength  of  the  impression  that  was 
made  on  the  poor  old  man's  mind  by  the  char 
acter  of  the  old  Doctor ;  so  that,  after  thirty 
years  of  other  service,  he  still  felt  him  to  be  the 
master,  and  could  not  in  the  least  release  him 
self  from  those  earlier  bonds.  He  remembered 
a  story  that  the  Doctor  used  to  tell  of  his  once 
recovering  a  hanged  person,  and  more  and  more 
came  to  the  conclusion  that  this  was  the  man  ; 
and  that,  as  the  Doctor  had  said,  this  hold  of  a 
strong  mind  over  a  weak  one,  strengthened  by 
the  idea  that  he  had  made  him,  had  subjected 
the  man  to  him  in  a  kind  of  slavery  that  em 
braced  the  soul. 

And  then,  again,  the  lord  of  the  estate  inter 
ested  him  greatly,  and  not  unpleasantly.  He 
compared  what  he  seemed  to  be  now  witn  what, 
according  to  all  reports,  he  had  been  in  the  past, 
340 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

and  could  make  nothing  of  it,  nor  reconcile  the 
two  characters  in  the  least.  It  seemed  as  if  the 
estate  were  possessed  by  a  devil,  —  a  foul  and 
melancholy  fiend,  —  who  resented  the  attempted 
possession  of  others  by  subjecting  them  to  him 
self.  One  had  turned  from  quiet  and  sober  hab 
its  to  reckless  dissipation ;  another  had  turned 
from  the  usual  gayety  of  life  to  recluse  habits, 
—  and  both,  apparently,  by  the  same  influence ; 
at  least,  so  it  appeared  to  Redclyffe,  as  he  insu 
lated  their  story  from  all  other  circumstances, 
and  looked  at  them  by  one  light.  He  even 
thought  that  he  felt  a  similar  influence  coming 
over  himself,  even  in  this  little  time  that  he  had 
spent  here ;  gradually,  should  this  be  his  per 
manent  residence,  —  and  not  so  very  gradually 
either,  —  there  would  come  its  own  individual 
mode  of  change  over  him.  That  quick  sugges 
tive  mind  would  gather  the  moss  and  lichens  of 
decay.  Palsy  of  its  powers  would  probably  be 
the  form  it  would  assume.  He  looked  back 
through  the  vanished  years  to  the  time  which  he 
had  spent  with  the  old  Doctor,  and  he  felt  un 
accountably  as  if  the  mysterious  old  man  were  yet 
ruling  him,  as  he  did  in  his  boyhood;  as  if  his 
inscrutable,  inevitable  eye  were  upon  him  in  all 
his  movements  ;  nay,  as  if  he  had  guided  every 
step  that  he  took  in  coming  hither,  and  were 
stalking  mistily  before  him,  leading  him  about 
He  sometimes  would  gladly  have  given  up  all 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

these  wild  and  enticing  prospects,  these  dreams 
that  had  occupied  him  so  long,  if  he  could  only 
have  gone  away  and  looked  back  upon  the  house, 
its  inmates,  and  his  own  recollections  no  more; 
but  there  came  a  fate,  and  took  the  shape  of  the 
old  Doctor's  apparition,  holding  him  back. 

And  then,  too,  the  thought  of  Elsie  had  much 
influence  in  keeping  him  quietly  here  ;  her  nat 
ural  sunshine  was  the  one  thing  that,  just  now, 
seemed  to  have  a  good  influence  upon  the  world. 
She,  too,  was  evidently  connected  with  this  place, 
and  with  the  fate,  whatever  it  might  be,  that 
awaited  him  here.  The  Doctor,  the  ruler  of  his 
destiny,  had  provided  her  as  well  as  all  the  rest ; 
and  from  his  grave,  or  wherever  he  was,  he  still 
seemed  to  bring  them  together. 

So  here,  in  this  darkened  dream,  he  waited 
for  what  should  come  to  pass  ;  and  daily,  when 
he  sat  down  in  the  dark  old  library,  it  was  with 
the  thought  that  this  day  might  bring  to  a  close 
the  doubt  amid  which  he  lived,  —  might  give 
him  the  impetus  to  go  forward.  In  such  a  state, 
no  doubt,  the  witchcraft  of  the  place  was  really 
to  be  recognized ;  the  old  witchcraft,  too,  of  the 
Doctor,  which  he  had  escaped  by  the  quick 
ebullition  of  youthful  spirit,  long  ago,  while  the 
Doctor  lived,  but  which  had  been  stored  up  till 
now,  till  an  influence  that  remained  latent  for 
years  had  worked  out  in  active  disease.  He 
held  himself  open  for  intercourse  with  the  lord 
342 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

of  the  mansion  ;  and  intercourse  of  a  certain 
nature  they  certainly  had,  but  not  of  the  kind 
which  Redclyffe  desired.  They  talked  together 
of  politics,  of  the  state  of  the  relations  between 
England  and  America,  of  the  court  to  which 
Redclyffe  was  accredited  :  sometimes  Redclyffe 
tried  to  lead  the  conversation  to  the  family  topics; 
nor,  in  truth,  did  Lord  Braithwaite  seem  to  de 
cline  his  lead,  although  it  was  observable  that 
very  speedily  the  conversation  would  be  found 
turned  upon  some  other  subject,  to  which  it  had 
swerved  aside  by  subtle  underhand  movements. 
Yet  Redclyffe  was  not  the  less  determined,  and 
at  no  distant  period,  to  bring  up  the  subject  on 
which  his  mind  dwelt  so  much,  and  have  it  fairly 
discussed  between  them. 

He  was  sometimes  a  little  frightened  at  the 
position  and  circumstances  in  which  he  found 
himself;  a  great  disturbance  there  was  in  his  be 
ing,  the  causes  of  which  he  could  not  trace.  It 
had  an  influence  on  his  dreams,  through  which 
the  Doctor  seemed  to  pass  continually ;  and 
when  he  awoke  it  was  often  with  the  sensation 
that  he  had  just  the  moment  before  been  hold 
ing  conversation  with  the  old  man,  and  that  the 
latter  —  with  that  gesture  of  power  that  he  re 
membered  so  well  —  had  been  impressing  some 
command  upon  him;  but  what  that  command 
was,  he  could  not  possibly  call  to  mind.  He 
wandered  among  the  dark  passages  of  the  house, 
343 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

and  up  its  antique  staircases,  as  if  expecting  at 
every  turn  to  meet  some  one  who  would  have 
the  word  of  destiny  to  say  to  him.  When  he 
went  forth  into  the  park,  it  was  as  if  to  hold  an 
appointment  with  one  who  had  promised  to  meet 
him  there ;  and  he  came  slowly  back,  lingering 
and  loitering,  because  this  expected  one  had 
not  yet  made  himself  visible,  yet  plucked  up  a 
little  alacrity  as  he  drew  near  the  house,  because 
the  communicant  might  have  arrived  in  his  ab 
sence,  and  be  waiting  for  him  in  the  dim  library. 
It  seemed  as  if  he  was  under  a  spell ;  he  could 
neither  go  away  nor  rest,  —  nothing  but  dreams, 
troubled  dreams.  He  had  ghostly  fears,  as  Y 
some  one  were  near  him  whom  he  could  not  make 
out ;  stealing  behind  him,  and  starting  away 
when  he  was  impelled  to  turn  round.  A  ner 
vousness  that  his  healthy  temperament  had  never 
before  permitted  him  to  be  the  victim  of,  assailed 
him  now.  He  could  not  help  imputing  it  partly 
to  the  influence  of  the  generations  who  had  left 
a  portion  of  their  individual  human  nature  in 
the  house,  which  had  become  magnetic  by  them 
and  could  not  rid  itself  of  their  presence,  in  one 
sense  ;  though,  in  another,  they  had  borne  it  as 
far  off  as  to  where  the  gray  tower  of  the  village 
church  rose  above  their  remains. 

Again,  he  was  frightened  to  perceive  what  a 
hold  the  place  was  gettingupon  him  ;  how  the  ten 
drils  of  the  ivy  seemed  to  hold  him  and  would 
344 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

not  let  him  go  ;  how  natural  and  homelike  (grim 
and  sombre  as  they  were)  the  old  doorways  and 
apartments  were  becoming ;  how  in  no  place 
that  he  had  ever  known  had  he  had  such  a  home 
like  feeling.  To  be  sure,  poor  fellow,  he  had 
no  earlier  home  except  the  almshouse,  where  his 
recollection  of  a  fireside  crowded  by  grim  old 
women  and  pale,  sickly  children  of  course  never 
allowed  him  to  have  the  reminiscences  of  a  pri 
vate,  domestic  home.  But  then  there  was  the 
Doctor's  home  by  the  graveyard,  and  little  Elsie, 
his  constant  playmate  ?  No,  even  those  recol 
lections  did  not  hold  him  like  this  heavy  present 
circumstance.  How  should  he  ever  draw  him~ 
self  away  ?  No  ;  the  proud  and  vivid  and  active 
prospects  that  had  heretofore  spread  themselves 
before  him,  —  the  striving  to  conquer,  the  strug 
gle,  the  victory,  the  defeat,  if  such  it  was  to  be, 
—  the  experiences  for  good  or  ill,  —  the  life,  life, 
life,  —  all  possibility  of  these  was  passing  from 
him,  all  that  hearty  earnest  contest  or  commun 
ion  of  man  with  man,  and  leaving  him  nothing 
but  this  great  sombre  shade,  this  brooding  of  the 
old  family  mansion,  with  its  dreary  ancestral  hall, 
its  mouldy  dignity,  its  life  of  the  past,  its  fetter 
ing  honor,  which  to  accept  must  bind  him  hand 
and  foot,  as  respects  all  effort,  such  as  he  had 
trained  himself  for, —  such  as  his  own  country 
offered.  It  was  not  any  value  for  these,  —  as 
it  seemed  to  Redclyffe,  —  but  a  witchcraft,  an 
345 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

indefinable  spell,  a  something  that  he  could  not 
define,  that  enthralled  him,  and  was  now  doing 
a  work  on  him  analogous  to,  though  different 
from,  that  which  was  wrought  on  Omskirk  and 
all  the  other  inhabitants,  high  and  low,  of  this 
old  mansion. 

He  felt  greatly  interested  in  the  master  of 
the  mansion  ;  although  perhaps  it  was  not  from 
anything  in  his  nature,  but  partly  because  he 
conceived  that  he  himself  had  a  controlling 
power  over  his  fortunes,  and  likewise  from  the 
vague  perception  of  this  before-mentioned  trou 
ble  in  him.  It  seemed,  whatever  it  might  be, 
to  have  converted  an  ordinary  superficial  man 
of  the  world  into  a  being  that  felt  and  suffered 
inwardly,  had  pangs,  fears,  a  conscience,  a  sense 
of  unseen  things.  It  seemed  as  if  underneath 
this  manor  house  were  the  entrance  to  the  cave 
of  Trophonius,  one  visit  to  which  made  a  man 
sad  forever  after;  and  that  Lord  Braithwaite 
had  been  there  once,  or  perhaps  went  nightly, 
or  at  any  hour.  Or  the  mansion  itself  was  like 
dark-colored  experience,  the  reality ;  the  point 
of  view  where  things  were  seen  in  their  true 
lights  ;  the  true  world,  all  outside  of  which  was 
delusion,  and  here  —  dreamlike  as  its  structures 
seemed  —  the  absolute  truth.  All  those  that 
lived  in  it  were  getting  to  be  a  brotherhood, 
and  he  among  them ;  and  perhaps  before  the 
blood-stained  threshold  would  grow  up  an  im- 
346 


DOCTOR  GRLMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

passable  barrier,  which  would  cause  himself  to 
sit  down  in  dreary  quiet,  like  the  rest  of  them. 
RedclyfFe,  as  has  been  intimated,  had  an 
unavowed  —  unavowed  to  himself — suspicion 
that  the  master  of  the  house  cherished  no  kindly 
purpose  towards  him  ;  he  had  an  indistinct  feel 
ing  of  danger  from  him ;  he  would  not  have 
been  surprised  to  know  that  he  was  concocting 
a  plot  against  his  life ;  and  yet  he  did  not  think 
that  Lord  Braithwaite  had  the  slightest  hostil 
ity  towards  him.  It  might  make  the  thing  more 
horrible,  perhaps  ;  but  it  has  been  often  seen  in 
those  who  poison  for  the  sake  of  interest,  with 
out  feelings  of  personal  malevolence,  that  they 
do  it  as  kindly  as  the  nature  of  the  thing  will 
permit ;  they,  possibly,  may  even  have  a  certain 
degree  of  affection  for  their  victims,  enough  to 
induce  them  to  make  the  last  hours  of  life  sweet 
and  pleasant ;  to  wind  up  the  fever  of  life  with 
a  double  supply  of  enjoyable  throbs ;  to  sweeten 
and  delicately  flavor  the  cup  of  death  that  they 
offer  to  the  lips  of  him  whose  life  is  inconsist 
ent  with  some  stated  necessity  of  their  own. 
4<  Dear  friend,"  such  a  one  might  say  to  the 
friend  whom  he  reluctantly  condemned  to  death, 
"  think  not  that  there  is  any  base  malice,  any 
desire  of  pain  to  thee,  that  actuates  me  in  this 
thing.  Heaven  knows,  I  earnestly  wish  thy 
good.  But  I  have  well  considered  the  matter, 
—  more  deeply  than  thou  hast,  —  and  have 
347 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

found  that  it  is  essential  that  one  thing  should 
be,  and  essential  to  that  thing  that  thou,  my 
friend,  shouldst  die.  Is  that  a  doom  which 
even  thou  wouldst  object  to  with  such  an  end 
to  be  answered  ?  Thou  art  innocent ;  thou  art 
not  a  man  of  evil  life ;  the  worst  thing  that  can 
come  of  it,  so  far  as  thou  art  concerned,  would 
be  a  quiet,  endless  repose  in  yonder  churchyard, 
among  dust  of  thy  ancestry,  with  the  English 
violets  growing  over  thee  there,  and  the  green, 
sweet  grass,  which  thou  wilt  not  scorn  to  asso 
ciate  with  thy  dissolving  elements,  remember 
ing  that  thy  forefather  owed  a  debt,  for  his  own 
birth  and  growth,  to  this  English  soil,  and  paid 
it  not,  —  consigned  himself  to  that  rough  soil 
of  another  clime,  under  the  forest  leaves.  Pay 
it,  dear  friend,  without  repining,  and  leave  me 
to  battle  a  little  longer  with  this  troublesome 
world,  and  in  a  few  years  to  rejoin  thee,  and 
talk  quietly  over  this  matter  which  we  are  now 
arranging.  How  slight  a  favor,  then,  for  one 
friend  to  do  another,  will  seem  this  that  I  seek 
of  thee ! " 

Redclyffe  smiled  to  himself,  as  he  thus  gave 
expression  to  what  he  really  half  fancied  were 
Lord  Braithwaite's  feelings  and  purposes  to 
wards  him ;  and  he  felt  them  in  the  kindness 
and  sweetness  of  his  demeanor,  and  his  evident 
wish  to  make  him  happy,  combined  with  his  own 
subtile  suspicion  of  some  design  with  which  he 
548 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

had  been  invited  here,  or  which  had  grown  up 
since  he  came. 

Whoever  has  read  Italian  history  must  have 
seen  such  instances  of  this  poisoning  without 
malice  or  personal  ill  feeling. 

His  own  pleasant,  companionable,  perhaps 
noble  traits  and  qualities  may  have  made  a 
favorable  impression  on  Lord  Braithwaite,  and 
perhaps  he  regretted  the  necessity  of  acting  as 
ne  was  about  to  do,  but  could  not  therefore 
weakly  relinquish  his  deliberately  formed  design. 
And,  on  his  part,  Redclyffe  bore  no  malice  to 
wards  Lord  Braithwaite,  but  felt  really  a  kindly 
interest  in  him,  and  could  he  have  made  him 
happy  at  any  less  cost  than  his  own  life  or 
dearest  interests,  would  perhaps  have  been  glad 
to  do  so.  He  sometimes  felt  inclined  to  re 
monstrate  with  him  in  a  friendly  way ;  to  tell 
him  that  his  intended  course  was  not  likely  to 
lead  to  a  good  result ;  that  they  had  better  try 
to  arrange  the  matter  on  some  other  basis,  and 
perhaps  he  would  not  find  the  American  so 
unreasonable  as  he  supposed. 

A  I1  this,  it  will  be  understood,  was  the  mere 
dreamy  supposition  of  RedclyfFe,  in  the  idle 
ness  and  languor  of  the  old  mansion,  letting  his 
mind  run  at  will,  and  following  it  into  dim 
caves,  whither  it  tended.  He  did  not  actuallv 
believe  anything  of  all  this  ;  unless  it  be  a 
lawyer,  or  a  policeman,  or  some  very  vulgar 
349 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

natural  order  of  mind,  no  man  really  suspects 
another  of  crime.  It  is  the  hardest  thing  in  the 
world  for  a  noble  nature  —  the  hardest  and  the 
most  shocking —  to  be  convinced  that  a  fellow 
being  is  going  to  do  a  wrong  thing,  and  the 
consciousness  of  one's  own  inviolability  renders 
it  still  more  difficult  to  believe  that  one's  self 
is  to  be  the  object  of  the  wrong.  What  he  had 
been  fancying  looked  to  him  like  a  romance. 
The  strange  part  of  the  matter  was,  what  sug 
gested  such  a  romance  in  regard  to  his  kind 
and  hospitable  host,  who  seemed  to  exercise  the 
hospitality  of  England  with  a  kind  of  refine 
ment  and  pleasant  piquancy  that  came  from  his 
Italian  mixture  of  blood?  Was  there  no  spir 
itual  whisper  here? 

So  the  time  wore  on  ;  and  Redclyffe  began  to 
be  sensible  that  he  must  soon  decide  upon  the 
course  that  he  was  to  take ;  for  his  diplomatic 
position  waited  for  him,  and  he  could  not  loiter 
many  days  more  away  in  this  half-delicious,  half- 
painful  reverie  and  quiet  in  the  midst  of  his 
struggling  life.  He  was  yet  as  undetermined 
what  to  do  as  ever  ;  or,  if  we  may  come  down 
to  the  truth,  he  was  perhaps  loath  to  acknow 
ledge  to  himself  the  determination  that  he  had 
actually  formed. 

One  day,  at  dinner,  which  now  came  on  after 
candlelight,  he  and    Lord  Braithwaite  sat  to- 
350 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

gether  at  table,  as  usual,  while  Omskirk  waited 
at  the  sideboard.  It  was  a  wild,  gusty  night, 
in  which  an  autumnal  breeze  of  later  autumn 
seemed  to  have  gone  astray,  and  come  into 
September  intrusively.  The  two  friends  —  for 
such  we  may  call  them  —  had  spent  a  pleasant 
day  together,  wandering  in  the  grounds,  look 
ing  at  the  old  house  at  all  points,  going  to  the 
church,  and  examining  the  cross-legged  stone 
statues  ;  they  had  ridden,  too,  and  taken  a  great 
deal  of  healthful  exercise,  and  had  now  that 
pleasant  sense  of  just  weariness  enough  which  it 
is  the  boon  of  the  climate  of  England  to  incite 
and  permit  men  to  take.  Redclyffe  was  in  one 
of  his  most  genial  moods,  and  Lord  Braithwaite 
seemed  to  be  the  same  ;  so  kindly  they  were 
both  disposed  to  one  another,  that  the  American 
felt  that  he  might  not  longer  refrain  from  giv 
ing  his  friend  some  light  upon  the  character  in 
which  he  appeared,  or  in  which,  at  least,  he  had 
it  at  his  option  to  appear.  Lord  Braithwaite 
might  or  might  not  know  it  already ;  but  at  all 
events  it  was  his  duty  to  tell  him,  or  to  take  his 
leave,  having  thus  far  neither  gained  nor  sought 
anything  from  their  connection  which  would 
tend  to  forward  his  pursuit  —  should  he  decide 
to  undertake  it. 

When  the  cheerful  fire,  the  rare  wine,  and  the 
good  fare  had  put  them  both  into  a  good  phy- 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

sical  state,  Redclyffe  said  to  Lord  Braithwaite^ 
"  There  is  a  matter  upon  which  I  have  been 
some  time  intending  to  speak  to  you." 

Braithwaite  nodded. 

"  A  subject,"  continued  he,  "  of  interest  to 
both  of  us.  Has  it  ever  occurred  to  you,  from 
the  identity  of  name,  that  I  may  be  really,  what 
we  have  jokingly  assumed  me  to  be,  —  a  rela 
tion  ?  " 

"It  has,"  said  Lord  Braithwaite  readily 
enough.  "  The  family  would  be  proud  to  ac 
knowledge  such  a  kinsman,  whose  abilities  and 
political  rank  would  add  a  public  lustre  that  it 
has  long  wanted." 

Redclyffe  bowed  and  smiled. 

"You  know,  I  suppose,  the  annals  of  your 
house,"  he  continued,  "and  have  heard  how, 
two  centuries  ago,  or  somewhat  less,  there  was 
an  ancestor  who  mysteriously  disappeared.  He 
was  never  seen  again.  There  were  tales  of  pri 
vate  murder,  out  of  which  a  hundred  legends 
have  come  down  to  these  days,  as  I  have  my 
self  found,  though  most  of  them  in  so  strange 
a  shape  that  I  should  hardly  know  them,  had  I 
not  myself  a  clue." 

"  I  have  heard  some  of  these  legends,"  said 
Lord  Braithwaite. 

"  But  did  you  ever  hear,  among  them,"  asked 
Redclyffe,  "  that  the  lost  ancestor  did  not  really 
die,  —  was   not    murdered,  —  but    lived    long, 
352 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

though  in  another  hemisphere,  —  lived  long, 
and  left  heirs  behind  him  ?  " 

"  There  is  such  a  legend,"  said  Lord  Braith- 
waite. 

"  Left  posterity,"  continued  Redclyffe,  —  "a 
representative  of  whom  is  alive  at  this  day." 

"That  I  have  not  known,  though  I  might 
conjecture  something  like  it,"  said  Braithwaite. 

The  coolness  with  which  he  took  this  per 
plexed  Redclyffe.  He  resolved  to  make  trial  at 
once  whether  it  were  possible  to  move  him. 

"  And  I  have  reason  to  believe,"  he  added, 
"  that  that  representative  is  myself." 

"  Should  that  prove  to  be  the  case,  you  are 
welcome  back  to  your  own,"  said  Lord  Braith 
waite  quietly.  "  It  will  be  a  very  remarkable 
case,  if  the  proofs  for  two  hundred  years,  or 
thereabouts,  can  be  so  distinctly  made  out  as  to 
nullify  the  claim  of  one  whose  descent  is  un 
doubted.  Yet  it  is  certainly  not  impossible. 
I  suppose  it  would  hardly  be  fair  in  me  to  ask 
what  are  your  proofs,  and  whether  I  may  see 
them?" 

"  The  documents  are  in  the  hands  of  my 
agents  in  London,"  replied  Redclyffe,  "  and 
seem  to  be  ample;  among  them  being  a  certified 
genealogy  from  the  first  emigrant  downward, 
without  a  break.  A  declaration  of  two  men  of 
note  among  the  first  settlers,  certifying  that  they 
knew  the  first  emigrant,  under  a  change  of 
353 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

name,  to  be  the  eldest  son  of  the  house  of 
Braithwaite  ;  full  proofs,  at  least  on  that  head." 

"  You  are  a  lawyer,  I  believe,"  said  Braith 
waite,  "  and  know  better  than  I  what  may  be 
necessary  to  prove  your  claim.  I  will  frankly 
own  to  you,  that  I  have  heard,  long  ago,  —  as 
long  as  when  my  connection  with  this  heredi 
tary  property  first  began,  —  that  there  was  sup 
posed  to  be  an  heir  extant  for  a  long  course  of 
years,  and  that  there  was  no  proof  that  that 
main  line  of  the  descent  had  ever  become  ex 
tinct.  If  these  things  had  come  fairly  before  me, 
and  been  represented  to  me  with  whatever  force 
belongs  to  them,  before  my  accession  to  the  es 
tate,  —  these  and  other  facts  which  I  have  since 
become  acquainted  with,  —  I  might  have  delib 
erated  on  the  expediency  of  coming  to  such  a 
doubtful  possession.  The  property,  I  assure 
you,  is  not  so  desirable  that,  taking  all  things 
into  consideration,  it  has  much  increased  my 
happiness.  But,  now,  here  I  am,  having  paid 
a  price  in  a  certain  way,  —  which  you  will  un 
derstand,  if  you  ever  come  into  the  property, 
—  a  price  of  a  nature  that  cannot  possibly  be 
refunded.  It  can  hardly  be  presumed  that  I 
shall  see  your  right  a  moment  sooner  than  you 
make  it  manifest  by  law." 

"  I  neither  expect  nor  wish  it,"  replied  Red- 
clyffe,  "  nor,  to  speak  frankly,  am  I  quite  sure 
that  you  will  ever  have  occasion  to  defend  your 
354 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

title,  or  to  question  mine.  When  I  came  hither, 
to  be  your  guest,  it  was  almost  with  the  settled 
purpose  never  to  mention  my  proofs,  nor  to 
seek  to  make  them  manifest.  That  purpose  is 
not,  I  may  say,  yet  relinquished." 

"  Yet  I  am  to  infer  from  your  words  that  it 
is  shaken  ?  "  said  Braithwaite.  "  You  find  the 
estate,  then,  so  delightful,  —  this  life  of  the  old 
manor  house  so  exquisitely  agreeable,  —  this  air 
so  cheering,  —  this  moral  atmosphere  so  invig 
orating, —  that  your  scruples  are  about  coming 
to  an  end.  You  think  this  life  of  an  English 
man,  this  fair  prospect  of  a  title,  so  irresistibly 
enticing  as  to  be  worth  more  than  your  claim, 
in  behalf  of  your  American  birthright,  to  a  pos 
sible  Presidency." 

There  was  a  sort  of  sneer  in  this,  which  Red- 
clyffe  did  not  well  know  how  to  understand ; 
and  there  was  a  look  on  Braithwaite's  face,  as 
he  said  it,  that  made  him  think  of  a  condemned 
soul,  who  should  be  dressed  in  magnificent 
robes,  and  surrounded  with  the  mockery  of 
state,  splendor,  and  happiness,  who,  if  he  should 
be  congratulated  on  his  fortunate  and  blissful 
situation,  would  probably  wear  just  such  a  look, 
and  speak  in  just  that  tone.  He  looked  a 
moment  in  Braithwaite's  face. 

"  No,"  he  replied.  "  I  do  not  think  that 
there  is  much  happiness  in  it.  A  brighter, 
healthier,  more  useful,  far  more  satisfactory, 
355 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

though  tumultuous  life  would  await  me  in  my 
own  country.  But  there  is  about  this  place  a 
strange,  deep,  sad,  brooding  interest,  which  pos 
sesses  me,  and  draws  me  to  it,  and  will  not  let 
me  go.  I  feel  as  if,  in  spite  of  myself  and  my 
most  earnest  efforts,  I  were  fascinated  by  some 
thing  in  the  spot,  and  must  needs  linger  here, 
and  make  it  my  home  if  I  can." 

"  You  shall  be  welcome  ;  the  old  hereditary 
chair  will  be  filled  at  last,"  said  Braithwaite, 
pointing  to  the  vacant  chair.  "  Come,  we  will 
drink  to  you  in  a  cup  of  welcome.  Take  the 
old  chair  now." 

In  half  frolic  Redclyffe  took  the  chair. 

Braithwaite  called  to  Omskirk  to  bring  a  bot 
tle  of  a  particularly  exquisite  Italian  wine,  known 
only  to  the  most  deeply  skilled  in  the  vintages 
of  that  country,  and  which,  he  said,  was  oftener 
heard  of  than  seen,  —  oftener  seen  than  tasted. 
Omskirk  put  it  on  the  table  in  its  original  glass, 
and  Braithwaite  rilled  Redclyffe's  glass  and  his 
own,  and  raised  the  latter  to  his  lips,  with  a 
frank  expression  of  his  mobile  countenance. 

"  May  you  have  a  secure  possession  of  your 
estate,"  said  he, "  and  live  long  in  the  midst  of 
your  possessions.  To  me,  on  the  whole,  it 
seems  better  than  your  American  prospects." 

Redclyffe  thanked  him,  and  drank  off  the 
glass  of  wine,  which  was  not  very  much  to  his 
taste ;  as  new  varieties  of  wine  are  apt  not  to 

356 


/;/  half  frolic  Redclyjfe  took  the  chair 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

be.  All  the  conversation  that  had  passed  had 
been  in  a  free,  careless  sort  of  way,  without  ap 
parently  much  earnestness  in  it ;  for  they  were 
both  men  who  knew  how  to  keep  their  more 
serious  parts  within  them.  But  Redclyffe  was 
glad  that  the  explanation  was  over,  and  that  he 
might  now  remain  at  Braithwaite's  table,  under 
his  roof,  without  that  uneasy  feeling  of  treachery 
which,  whether  rightly  or  not,  had  haunted  him 
hitherto.  He  felt  joyous,  and  stretched  his 
hand  out  for  the  bottle  which  Braithwaite  kept 
near  himself,  instead  of  passing  it. 

"  You  do  not  yourself  do  justice  to  your  own 
favorite  wine,"  observed  Redclyffe,  seeing  his 
host's  full  glass  standing  before  him. 

"  I  have  filled  again,"  said  Braithwaite  care 
lessly  ;  "  but  I  know  not  that  I  shall  venture 
to  drink  a  second  glass.  It  is  a  wine  that  does 
not  bear  mixture  with  other  vintages,  though 
of  most  genial  and  admirable  qualities  when 
taken  by  itself.  Drink  your  own,  however, 
for  it  will  be  a  rare  occasion  indeed  that  would 
induce  me  to  offer  you  another  bottle  of  this 
rare  stock." 

RedclyfFe  sipped  his  second  glass,  endeavor 
ing  to  find  out  what  was  this  subtile  and  pecul 
iar  flavor  that  hid  itself  so,  and  yet  seemed  on 
the  point  of  revealing  itself.  It  had,  he  thought, 
a  singular  effect  upon  his  faculties,  quickening 
and  making  them  active,  and  causing  him  to 
357 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

feel  as  if  he  were  on  the  point  of  penetrating 
rare  mysteries,  such  as  men's  thoughts  are 
always  hovering  round,  and  always  returning 
from.  Some  strange,  vast,  sombre,  mysterious 
truth,  which  he  seemed  to  have  searched  for 
long,  appeared  to  be  on  the  point  of  being  re 
vealed  to  him ;  a  sense  of  something  to  come, 
something  to  happen  that  had  been  waiting 
long,  long  to  happen  ;  an  opening  of  doors,  a 
drawing  away  of  veils  ;  a  lifting  of  heavy,  mag 
nificent  curtains,  whose  dark  folds  hung  before 
a  spectacle  of  awe ;  —  it  was  like  the  verge  of 
the  grave.  Whether  it  was  the  exquisite  wine 
of  Braithwaite,  or  whatever  it  might  be,  the 
American  felt  a  strange  influence  upon  him,  as 
if  he  were  passing  through  the  gates  of  eternity, 
and  finding  on  the  other  side  the  revelation,  of 
some  secret  that  had  greatly  perplexed  him  on 
this  side.  He  thought  that  Braithwaite's  face 
assumed  a  strange,  subtile  smile,  —  not  mali 
cious,  yet  crafty,  triumphant,  and  at  the  same 
time  terribly  sad ;  and  with  that  perception  his 
senses,  his  life,  welled  away,  and  left  him  in 
the  deep  ancestral  chair  at  the  board  of  Braith 
waite. 

358 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

WHEN  awake,1  or  beginning  to  awake, 
he  lay  for  some  time  in  a  maze ;  not 
a  disagreeable  one,  but  thoughts  were 
running  to  and  fro  in  his  mind,  all  mixed  and 
jumbled  together.  Reminiscences  of  early  days, 
even  those  that  were  Preadamite  ;  referring,  we 
mean,  to  those  times  in  the  almshouse,  which 
he  could  not  at  ordinary  times  remember  at  all ; 
but  now  there  seemed  to  be  visions  of  old  wo 
men  and  men,  and  pallid  girls,  and  little  dirty 
boys,  which  could  only  be  referred  to  that  epoch. 
Also,  and  most  vividly,  there  was  the  old  Doc 
tor,  with  his  sternness,  his  fierceness,  his  mys 
tery  ;  and  all  that  happened  since,  playing  phan 
tasmagoria  before  his  yet  unclosed  eyes  ;  norr 
so  mysterious  was  his  state,  did  he  know,  when 
he  should  unclose  those  lids,  where  he  should 
find  himself.  He  was  content  to  let  the  world 
go  on  in  this  way,  as  long  as  it  would,  and 
therefore  did  not  hurry,  but  rather  kept  back 
the  proofs  of  awakening ;  willing  to  look  at  the 
scenes  that  were  unrolling  for  his  amusement, 
as  it  seemed  ;  and  willing,  too,  to  keep  it  uncer 
tain  whether  he  were  not  back  in  America,  and 
in  his  boyhood,  and  all  other  subsequent  im- 
359 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

pressions  a  dream  or  a  prophetic  vision.  But 
at  length  something  stirring  near  him,  —  or 
whether  it  stirred,  or  whether  he  dreamed  it,  he 
could  not  quite  tell,  —  but  the  uncertainty  im 
pelled  him,  at  last,  to  open  his  eyes,  and  see 
whereabouts  he  was. 

Even  then  he  continued  in  as  much  uncer 
tainty  as  he  was  before,  and  lay  with  marvellous 
quietude  in  it,  trying  sluggishly  to  make  the 
mystery  out.  It  was  in  a  dim,  twilight  place, 
wherever  it  might  be  ;  a  place  of  half-awakeness, 
where  the  outlines  of  things  were  not  well  de 
fined  ;  but  it  seemed  to  be  a  chamber,  antique 
and  vaulted,  narrow  and  high,  hung  round  with 
old  tapestry.  Whether  it  were  morning  or  mid 
day  he  could  not  tell,  such  was  the  character  of 
the  light,  nor  even  where  it  came  from  ;  for  there 
appeared  to  be  no  windows,  and  yet  it  was  not 
apparently  artificial  light,  —  nor  light  at  all,  in 
deed,  but  a  gray  dimness.  It  was  so  like  his 
own  half-awake  state  that  he  lay  in  it  a  longer 
time,  not  incited  to  finish  his  awaking,  but  in  a 
languor,  not  disagreeable,  yet  hanging  heavily, 
heavily  upon  him,  like  a  dark  pall.  It  was,  in 
fact,  as  if  he  had  been  asleep  for  years,  or  cen 
turies,  or  till  the  last  day  was  dawning,  and  then 
was  collecting  his  thoughts  in  such  slow  fashion 
as  would  then  be  likely. 

Again  that  noise,  —  a  little,  low,  quiet  sound, 
as  of  one  breathing  somewhere  near  him.  The 
360 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

whole  thing  was  very  much  like  that  incident 
which  introduced  him  to  the  Hospital,  and  his 
first  coming  to  his  senses  there  ;  and  he  almost 
fancied  that  some  such  accident  must  again  have 
happened  to  him,  and  that  when  his  sight  cleared 
he  should  again  behold  the  venerable  figure 
the  pensioner.  With  this  idea  he  let  his  head 
steady  itself;  and  it  seemed  to  him  that  its  diz 
ziness  must  needs  be  the  result  of  very  long  and 
deep  sleep.  What  if  it  were  the  sleep  of  a  cen 
tury  ?  What  if  all  things  that  were  extant  when 
he  went  to  sleep  had  passed  away,  and  he  was 
waking  now  in  another  epoch  of  time  ?  Where 
was  America,  and  the  republic  in  which  he  hoped 
for  such  great  things?  Where  England?  had 
she  stood  it  better  than  the  republic  ?  Was  the 
old  Hospital  still  in  being, —  although  the  good 
Warden  must  long  since  have  passed  out  of  his 
warm  and  pleasant  life  ?  And  himself,  how  came 
he  to  be  preserved  ?  In  what  musty  old  nook 
had  he  been  put  away,  where  Time  neglected 
and  Death  forgot  him,  until  now  he  was  to  get 
up  friendless,  helpless,  —  when  new  heirs  had 
come  to  the  estate  he  was  on  the  point  of  lay 
ing  claim  to,  —  and  go  onward  through  what 
remained  of  life  ?  Would  it  not  have  been  better 
to  have  lived  with  his  contemporaries,  and  to 
be  now  dead  and  dust  with  them  ?  Poor,  petty 
interests  of  a  day,  how  slight ! 

Again  the  noise,  —  a  little  stir,  a  sort  of  quiet 
361 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

moan,  or  something  that  he  could  not  quite  de 
fine  ;  but  it  seemed,  whenever  he  heard  it,  as  if 
some  fact  thrust  itself  through  the  dream-work 
with  which  he  was  circumfused  ;  something  alien 
to  his  fantasies,  yet  not  powerful  enough  to  dis 
pel  them.  It  began  to  be  irksome  to  him, this 
little  sound  of  something  near  him  ;  and  he 
thought,  in  the  space  of  another  hundred  years, 
if  it  continued,  he  should  have  to  arouse  him 
self  and  see  what  it  was.  But,  indeed,  there  was 
something  so  cheering  in  this  long  repose,  — 
this  rest  from  all  the  troubles  of  earth,  which  it 
sometimes  seems  as  if  only  a  churchyard  bed 
would  give  us,  —  that  he  wished  the  noise  would 
let  him  alone.  But  his  thoughts  were  gradually 
getting  too  busy  for  this  slumberous  state.  He 
begun,  perforce,  to  come  nearer  actuality.  The 
strange  question  occurred  to  him,  Had  any  time 
at  all  passed  ?  Was  he  not  still  sitting  at  Lord 
Braithwaite's  table,  having  just  now  quaffed  a 
second  glass  of  that  rare  and  curious  Italian 
wine  ?  Was  it  not  affecting  his  head  very 
strangely,  —  so  that  he  was  put  out  of  time,  as 
it  were  ?  He  would  rally  himself,  and  try  to 
set  his  head  right  with  another  glass.  He  must 
be  still  at  table,  for  now  he  remembered  he  had 
not  gone  to  bed  at  all.2 

Ah,  the  noise  !      He  could  not  bear  it ;  he 
would  awake  now,  now  !  —  silence  it,  and  then 
to  sleep  again.      In  fact,  he  started  up  ;  started 
362 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

to  his  feet,  in  puzzle  and  perplexity,  and  stood 
gazing  around  him,  with  swimming  brain.  It 
was  an  antique  room,  which  he  did  not  at  all 
recognize,  and,  indeed,  in  that  dim  twilight  — 
which  how  it  came  he  could  not  tell  —  he  could 
scarcely  discern  what  were  its  distinguishing 
marks.  But  he  seemed  to  be  sensible,  that,  in 
a  high-backed  chair,  at  a  little  distance  from 
him,  sat  a  figure  in  a  long  robe  ;  a  figure  of  a 
man  with  snow-white  hair  and  a  long  beard,  who 
seemed  to  be  gazing  at  him  quietly,  as  if  he  had 
been  gazing  a  hundred  years.  I  know  not  what 
it  was,  but  there  was  an  influence  as  if  this  old 
man  belonged  to  some  other  age  and  category 
of  man  than  he  was  now  amongst.  He  remem 
bered  the  old  family  legend  of  the  existence  of 
an  ancestor  two  or  three  centuries  in  age. 

"  It  is  the  old  family  personified,"  thought 
he. 

The  old  figure  made  no  sign,  but  continued 
to  sit  gazing  at  him  in  so  strangely  still  a  man 
ner  that  it  made  RedclyfTe  shiver  with  some 
thing  that  seemed  like  affright.  There  was  an 
aspect  of  long,  long  time  about  him  ;  as  if  he 
had  never  been  young,  or  so  long  ago  as  when 
the  world  was  young  along  with  him.  He 
might  be  the  demon  of  this  old  house ;  the  re 
presentative  of  all  that  happened  in  it,  the  grief, 
the  long  languor  and  weariness  of  life,  the  deaths, 
gathering  them  all  into  himself,  and  figuring 
363 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

them  in  furrows,  wrinkles,  and  white  hairs,  —  a 
being  that  might  have  been  young,  when  those 
old  Saxon  timbers  were  put  together,  with  the 
oaks  that  were  saplings  when  Caesar  landed,  and 
was  in  his  maturity  when  the  Conqueror  came, 
and  was  now  lapsing  into  extreme  age  when  the 
nineteenth  century  was  elderly.  His  garb  might 
have  been  of  any  time,  that  long,  loose  robe 
that  enveloped  him.  Redclyffe  remained  in 
this  way,  gazing  at  this  aged  figure  ;  at  first 
without  the  least  wonder,  but  calmly,  as  we  feel 
in  dreams,  when,  being  in  a  land  of  enchant 
ment,  we  take  everything  as  if  it  were  a  matter 
of  course,  and  feel,  by  the  right  of  our  own 
marvellous  nature,  on  terms  of  equal  kindred 
with  all  other  marvels.  So  it  was  with  him 
when  he  first  became  aware  of  the  old  man,  sit 
ting  there  with  that  age-long  regard  directed 
towards  him. 

But,  by  degrees,  a  sense  of  wonder  had  its 
will,  and  grew,  slowly  at  first,  in  Redclyffe's 
mind ;  and  almost  twin-born  with  it,  and  grow 
ing  piece  by  piece,  there  was  a  sense  of  awful 
fear,  as  his  waking  senses  came  slowly  back  to 
him.  In  the  dreamy  state,  he  had  felt  no  fear; 
but,  as  a  waking  man,  it  was  fearful  to  discover 
that  the  shadowy  forms  did  not  fly  from  his 
awaking  eyes.  He  started  at  last  to  his  feet 
from  the  low  couch  on  which  he  had  all  this 
time  been  lying. 

364 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

"  What  are  you  ?  "  he  exclaimed.  "  Where 
am  I  ?  " 

The  old  figure  made  no  answer  ;  nor  could 
Redclyffe  be  quite  sure  that  his  voice  had  any 
effect  upon  it,  though  he  fancied  that  it  was 
shaken  a  little,  as  if  his  voice  came  to  it  from 
afar.  But  it  continued  to  gaze  at  him,  or  at 
least  to  have  its  aged  face  turned  towards  him 
in  the  dim  light ;  and  this  strange  composure 
and  unapproachableness  were  very  frightful. 
As  his  manhood  gathered  about  his  heart,  how 
ever,  the  American  endeavored  to  shake  off 
this  besetting  fear,  or  awe,  or  whatever  it  was, 
and  to  bring  himself  to  a  sense  of  waking  things, 
—  to  burst  through  the  mist  and  delusive  shows 
that  bewildered  him,  and  catch  hold  of  a  reality. 
He  stamped  upon  the  floor  ;  it  was  solid  stone, 
the  pavement,  or  oak  so  old  and  stanch  that  it 
resembled  it.  There  was  one  firm  thing,  there 
fore.  But  the  contrast  between  this  and  the 
slipperiness,  the  unaccountableness,  of  the  rest 
of  his  position,  made  him  the  more  sensible  of 
the  latter.  He  made  a  step  towards  the  old  fig 
ure;  another;  another.  He  was  face  to  face 
with  him,  within  a  yard  of  distance.  He  saw 
the  faint  movement  of  the  old  man's  breath  ;  he 
sought,  through  the  twilight  of  the  room,  some 
glimmer  of  perception  in  his  eyes. 

"  Are  you  a  living  man  ?  "  asked  Redclyffe 
faintly  and  doubtfully. 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

He  mumbled,  the  old  figure,  some  faint 
moaning  sound,  that,  if  it  were  language  at  all, 
had  all  the  edges  and  angles  worn  off  it  by 
decay,  —  unintelligible,  except  that  it  seemed  to 
signify  a  faint  mournfulness  and  complaining- 
ness  of  mood  ;  and  then  held  his  peace,  contin 
uing  to  gaze  as  before.  Redclyffe  could  not 
bear  the  awe  that  filled  him,  while  he  kept  at  a 
distance,  and,  coming  desperately  forward,  he 
stood  close  to  the  old  figure  ;  he  touched  his 
robe,  to  see  if  it  were  real ;  he  laid  his  hand 
upon  the  withered  hand  that  held  the  staff,  in 
which  he  now  recognized  the  very  staff  of  the 
Doctor's  legend.  His  fingers  touched  a  real 
hand,  though  bony  and  dry  as  if  it  had  been  in 
the  grave. 

"  Then  you  are  real  ?  "  said  Redclyffe  doubt 
fully. 

The  old  figure  seemed  to  have  exhausted  it 
self —  its  energies,  what  there  were  of  them  — 
in  the  effort  of  making  the  unintelligible  commu 
nication  already  vouchsafed.  Then  he  seemed 
to  lapse  out  of  consciousness,  and  not  to  know 
what  was  passing,  or  to  be  sensible  that  any  per 
son  was  near  him.  But  Redclyffe  was  now  re 
suming  his  firmness  and  daylight  consciousness 
even  in  the  dimness.  He  ran  over  all  that  he 
had  heard  of  the  legend  of  the  old  house,  rap 
idly  considering  whether  there  might  not  be 
something  of  fact  in  the  legend  of  the  undying 
366 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

old  man  ;  whether,  as  told  or  whispered  in  the 
chimney  corners,  it  might  not  be  an  instance  of 
the  mysterious,  the  half-spiritual  mode  in  which 
actual  truths  communicate  themselves  imper 
fectly  through  a  medium  that  gives  them  the 
aspect  of  falsehood.  Something  in  the  atmo 
sphere  of  the  house  made  its  inhabitants  and 
neighbors  dimly  aware  that  there  was  a  secret 
resident ;  it  was  by  a  language  not  audible,  but 
of  impression  ;  there  could  not  be  such  a  secret 
in  its  recesses  without  making  itself  sensible. 
This  legend  of  the  undying  one  translated  it  to 
vulgar  apprehension.  He  remembered  those 
early  legends,  told  by  the  Doctor,  in  his  child 
hood  ;  he  seemed  imperfectly  and  doubtfully 
to  see  what  was  their  true  meaning,  and  how, 
taken  aright,  they  had  a  reality,  and  were  the 
craftily  concealed  history  of  his  own  wrongs, 
sufferings,  and  revenge.  And  this  old  man  ! 
who  was  he?  He  joined  the  Warden's  account 
of  the  family  to  the  Doctor's  legends.  He 
could  not  believe,  or  take  thoroughly  in,  the 
strange  surmise  to  which  they  led  him  ;  but,  by 
an  irresistible  impulse,  he  acted  on  it. 

{<  Sir  Edward  Redclyffe  !  "  he  exclaimed. 

"  Ha !  who  speaks  to  me  ?  "  exclaimed  the 
old  man,  in  a  startled  voice,  like  one  who  hears 
himself  called  at  an  unexpected  moment. 

"  Sir  Edward  Redclyffe,"  repeated  Redclyffe, 
*  I  bring  you  news  of  Norman  Oglethorpe  !  "  3 

36? 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

"  The  villain  !  the  tyrant  !  mercy  !  mercy  ! 
save  me !  "  cried  the  old  man,  in  most  violent 
emotion  of  terror  and  rage  intermixed,  that 
shook  his  old  frame  as  if  it  would  be  shaken 
asunder.  He  stood  erect,  the  picture  of  ghastly 
horror,  as  if  he  saw  before  him  that  stern  face 
that  had  thrown  a  blight  over  his  life,  and  so 
fearfully  avenged,  from  youth  to  age,  the  crime 
that  he  had  committed.  The  effect,  the  passion, 
was  too  much,  —  the  terror  with  which  it  smote, 
the  rage  that  accompanied  it,  blazed  up  for  a 
moment  with  a  fierce  flame,  then  flickered  and 
went  out.  He  stood  tottering  ;  Redclyffe  put 
out  his  hand  to  support  him  ;  but  he  sank  down 
in  a  heap  on  the  floor,  as  if  a  thing  of  dry  bones 
had  been  suddenly  loosened  at  the  joints,  and 
fell  in  a  rattling  heap.4 

368 


CHAPTER  XXV 

K^DCLYFFE,  apparently,  had  not  com 
municated  to  his  agent  in  London  his 
change  of  address,  when  he  left  the 
Warden's  residence  to  avail  himself  of  the  hos 
pitality  of  Braithwaite  Hall ;  for  letters  arrived 
for  him,  from  his  own  country,  both  private  and 
with  the  seal  of  state  upon  them ;  one  among 
the  rest  that  bore  on  the  envelope  the  name  of 
the  President  of  the  United  States.  The  good 
Warden  was  impressed  with  great  respect  for  so 
distinguished  a  signature,  and,  not  knowing  but 
that  the  welfare  of  the  Republic  (for  which  he 
had  an  Englishman's  contemptuous  interest) 
might  be  involved  in  its  early  delivery  at  its  de 
stination,  he  determined  to  ride  over  to  Braith 
waite  Hall,  call  on  his  friend,  and  deliver  it  with 
his  own  hand.  With  this  purpose,  he  mounted 
his  horse,  at  the  hour  of  his  usual  morning  ride, 
and  set  forth  ;  and,  before  reaching  the  village, 
saw  a  figure  before  him  which  he  recognized  as 
that  of  the  pensioner.1 

"  Soho !  whither  go  you,  old  friend  ? "  said 
the  Warden,  drawing  his  bridle  as  he  came  up 
with  the  old  man. 

"To  Braithwaite  Hall,  sir,"  said  the  pen- 
369 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

sioner,  who  continued  to  walk  diligently  on ; 
"  and  I  am  glad  to  see  your  honor  (if  it  be  so) 
on  the  same  errand." 

"  Why  so  ?  "  asked  the  Warden.  "  You 
seem  much  in  earnest.  Why  should  my  visit 
to  Braithwaite  Hall  be  a  special  cause  of  rejoi 
cing  ?  " 

"  Nay,"  said  the  pensioner,  "  your  honor  is 
specially  interested  in  this  young  American, 
who  has  gone  thither  to  abide  ;  and  when  one 
is  in  a  strange  country  he  needs  some  guidance. 
My  mind  is  not  easy  about  the  young  man." 

"  Well,"  said  the  Warden,  smiling  to  himself 
at  the  old  gentleman's  idle  and  senile  fears, 
"  I  commend  your  diligence  on  behalf  of  your 
friend." 

He  rode  on  as  he  spoke,  and  deep  in  one  of 
the  woodland  paths  he  saw  the  flutter  of  a  wo 
man's  garment,  and,  greatly  to  his  surprise,  over 
took  Elsie,  who  seemed  to  be  walking  along 
with  great  rapidity,  and,  startled  by  the  approach 
of  hoofs  behind  her,  looked  up  at  him,  with  a 
pale  cheek. 

"  Good-morning,  Miss  Elsie,"  said  the  War 
den.  "  You  are  taking  a  long  walk  this  morn 
ing.  I  regret  to  see  that  I  have  frightened 
you." 

"  Pray,  whither  are  you  going  ?  "  said  she. 

"  To  the  Hall,"  said  the  Warden,  wondering 
at  the  abrupt  question. 

370 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

"  Ah,  sir,"  exclaimed  Elsie,  "  for  Heaven's 
sake,  pray  insist  on  seeing  Mr.  RedclyfFe,  — >• 
take  no  excuse  !  There  are  reasons  for  it." 

"  Certainly,  fair  lady,"  responded  the  War 
den,  wondering  more  and  more  at  this  injunc 
tion  from  such  a  source.  "  And  when  I  see  this 
fascinating  gentleman,  pray  what  message  am 
I  to  give  him  from  Miss  Elsie,  —  who,  more 
over,  seems  to  be  on  the  eve  of  visiting  him  in 
person  ?  " 

"  See  him  !  see  him  !  Only  see  him  !  "  said 
Elsie,  with  passionate  earnestness,  "  and  in  haste ! 
See  him  now  !  " 

She  waved  him  onward  as  she  spoke ;  and 
the  Warden,  greatly  commoted  for  the  nonce, 
complied  with  the  maiden's  fantasy  so  far  as  to 
ride  on  at  a  quicker  pace,  uneasily  marvelling 
at  what  could  have  aroused  this  usually  shy 
and  reserved  girl's  nervousness  to  such  a  pitch. 
The  incident  served  at  all  events  to  titillate  his 
English  sluggishness ;  so  that  he  approached 
the  avenue  of  the  old  Hall  with  a  vague  expec 
tation  of  something  that  had  happened  there, 
though  he  knew  not  of  what  nature  it  could 
possibly  be.  However,  he  rode  round  to  the 
side  entrance,  by  which  horsemen  generally  en 
tered  the  house,  and,  a  groom  approaching  to 
take  his  bridle,  he  alighted  and  approached  the 
door.  I  know  not  whether  it  were  anything 
more  than  the  glistening  moisture  common  in 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

an  English  autumnal  morning;  but  so  it  was, 
that  the  trace  of  the  Bloody  Footstep  seemed 
fresh,  as  if  it  had  been  that  very  night  imprinted 
anew,  and  the  crime  made  all  over  again,  with 
fresh  guilt  upon  somebody's  soul. 

When  the  footman  came  to  the  door,  respon 
sive  to  his  ring,  the  Warden  inquired  for  Mr. 
Redclyffe,  the  American  gentleman. 

"  The  American  gentleman  left  for  London 
early  this  morning,"  replied  the  footman,  in  a 
matter-of-fact  way. 

"  Gone  !  "  exclaimed  the  Warden.  "  This  is 
sudden  ;  and  strange  that  he  should  go  without 
saying  good-by.  Gone  !  "  and  then  he  remem 
bered  the  old  pensioner's  eagerness  that  the 
Warden  should  come  here,  and  Elsie's  strange 
injunction  that  he  should  insist  on  seeing  Red 
clyrTe.  "  Pray,  is  Lord  Braithwaite  at  home  ? " 

"  I  think,  sir,  he  is  in  the  library,"  said  the 
servant,  "  but  will  see  ;  pray,  sir,  walk  in." 

He  returned  in  a  moment,  and  ushered  the 
Warden  through  passages  with  which  he  was 
familiar  of  old,  to  the  library,  where  he  found 
Lord  Braithwaite  sitting  with  the  London  news 
paper  in  his  hand.  He  rose  and  welcomed  his 
guest  with  great  equanimity. 

To  the  Warden's   inquiries  after   Redclyffe 

Lord  Braithwaite  replied  that  his  guest  had  that 

morning  left  the  house,  being  called  to  London 

by  letters  from  America  ;  but  of  what  nature 

372 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

Lord  Braithwaite  was  unable  to  say,  except  that 
they  seemed  to  be  of  urgency  and  importance. 
The  Warden's  further  inquiries,  which  he  pushed 
as  far  as  was  decorous,  elicited  nothing  more 
than  this  ;  and  he  was  preparing  to  take  his 
leave,  not  seeing  any  reason  for  insisting  (ac 
cording  to  Elsie's  desire)  on  the  impossibility 
of  seeing  a  man  who  was  not  there,  —  nor, 
indeed,  any  reason  for  so  doing.  And  yet  it 
seemed  very  strange  that  RedclyfFe  should  have 
gone  so  unceremoniously  >  nor  was  he  half  sat 
isfied,  though  he  knew  not  why  he  should  be 
otherwise. 

"  Do  you  happen  to  know  Mr.  Redclyffe's 
address  in  London  ? "  asked  the  Warden. 

"  Not  at  all,"  said  Braithwaite.  "  But  I  pre 
sume  there  is  courtesy  enough  in  the  American 
character  to  impel  him  to  write  to  me,  or  both 
of  us,  within  a  day  or  two,  telling  us  of  his 
whereabouts  and  whatabouts.  Should  you  know, 
I  beg  you  will  let  me  know ;  for  I  have  really 
been  pleased  with  this  gentleman,  and  should 
have  been  glad  could  he  have  favored  me  with 
a  somewhat  longer  visit." 

There  was  nothing  more  to  be  said  ;  and  the 
Warden  took  his  leave,  and  was  about  mount 
ing  his  horse,  when  he  beheld  the  pensioner  ap 
proaching  the  house,  and  he  remained  standing 
until  he  should  come  up. 

"  You  are  too  late,"  said  he,  as  the  old  man 
373 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

drew   near.     "  Our    friend    has   taken    French 
leave." 

"  Mr.  Warden/'  said  the  old  man  solemnly, 
"  let  me  pray  you  not  to  give  him  up  so  easily. 
Come  with  me  into  the  presence  of  Lord  Braith- 
waite." 

The  Warden  made  some  objections ;  but  the 
pensioner's  manner  was  so  earnest,  that  he  soon 
consented  ;  knowing  that  the  strangeness  of  his 
sudden  return  might  well  enough  be  put  upon 
the  eccentricities  of  the  pensioner,  especially  as 
he  was  so  well  known  to  Lord  Braithwaite.  He 
accordingly  again  rang  at  the  door,  which  being 
opened  by  the  same  stolid  footman,  the  War 
den  desired  him  to  announce  to  Lord  Braithwaite 
that  the  Warden  and  a  pensioner  desired  to  see 
him.  He  soon  returned,  with  a  request  that 
they  would  walk  in,  and  ushered  them  again  to 
the  library,  where  they  found  the  master  of  the 
house  in  conversation  with  Omskirk  at  one  end 
of  the  apartment,  —  a  whispered  conversation, 
which  detained  him  a  moment,  after  their  ar 
rival.  The  Warden  fancied  that  he  saw  in  old 
Omskirk's  countenance  a  shade*  more  of  that 
mysterious  horror  which  made  him  such  a  bug 
bear  to  children  ;  but  when  Braithwaite  turned 
from  him  and  approached  his  visitors,  there  was 
no  trace  of  any  disturbance,  beyond  a  natural 
surprise  to  see  his  good  friend  the  Warden  so 
soon  after  his  taking  leave.2 
374 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

"  I  see  you  are  surprised,"  said  the  latter. 
"  But  you  must  lay  the  blame,  if  any,  on  our 
good  old  friend  here,  who,  for  some  reason,  best 
known  to  himself,  insisted  on  having  my  com 
pany  here." 

Braithwaite  looked  to  the  old  pensioner,  with 
a  questioning  look,  as  if  good-humoredly  (yet 
not  as  if  he  cared  much  about  it)  asking  for  an 
explanation.  As  Omskirk  was  about  leaving  the 
room,  having  remained  till  this  time,  with  that 
nervous  look  which  distinguished  him  gazing 
towards  the  party,  the  pensioner  made  him  a 
sign,  which  he  obeyed  as  if  compelled  to  do  so. 

"  Well,  my  friend,"  said  the  Warden,  some 
what  impatient  of  the  aspect  in  which  he  him 
self  appeared,  "  I  beg  of  you,  explain  at  once  to 
Lord  Braithwaite  why  you  have  brought  me 
back  in  this  strange  way." 

"  It  is,"  said  the  pensioner  quietly,  "  that  in 
your  presence  I  request  him  to  allow  me  to  see 
Mr.  Redclyffe." 

"  Why,  my  friend,"  said  Braithwaite,  "  how 
can  I  show  you  a  man  who  has  left  my  house, 
and  whom,  in  the  chances  of  this  life,  I  am  not 
very  likely  to  see  again,  though  hospitably  de 
sirous  of  so  doing?  " 

Here  ensued  a  laughing  sort  of  colloquy  be 
tween  the  Warden  and    Braithwaite,  in  which 
the  former  jocosely  excused  himself  for  having 
yielded  to  the  whim  of  the  pensioner,  and  re- 
375 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

turned  with  him  on  an  errand  which  he  well 
knew  to  be  futile. 

"  I  have  long  been  aware,"  he  said  apart,  in 
a  confidential  way,  "  of  something  a  little  awry 
in  our  old  friend's  mental  system.  You  will 
excuse  him,  and  me  for  humoring  him." 

"  Of  course,  of  course,"  said  Braithwaite,  in 
the  same  tone.  "  I  shall  not  be  moved  by  any 
thing  the  old  fellow  can  say." 

The  old  pensioner,  meanwhile,  had  been,  as  it 
were,  heating  up,  and  gathering  himself  into  a 
mood  of  energy  which  those  who  saw  him  had 
never  before  witnessed  in  his  usually  quiet  per 
son.  He  seemed  somehow  to  grow  taller  and 
larger,  more  impressive.  At  length,  fixing  his 
eyes  on  Lord  Braithwaite,  he  spoke  again. 

"  Dark,  murderous  man  !  "  exclaimed  he. 
"  Your  course  has  not  been  unwatched ;  the  se 
crets  of  this  mansion  are  not  unknown.  For 
two  centuries  back  they  have  been  better  known 
to  them  who  dwell  afar  off  than  to  those  resi 
dent  within  the  mansion.  The  foot  that  made 
the  Bloody  Footstep  has  returned  from  its  long 
wanderings,  and  it  passes  on,  straight  as  destiny, 
—  sure  as  an  avenging  Providence,  —  to  the 
punishment  and  destruction  of  those  who  incur 
retribution." 

"  Here  is  an  odd  kind  of  tragedy,"  said  Lord 
Braithwaite,  with  a  scornful  smile.    "  Come,  my 
old  friend,  lay  aside  this  vein,  and  talk  sense." 
376 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

"  Not  thus  do  you  escape  your  penalty,  hard 
ened  and  crafty  one  !  "  exclaimed  the  pensioner. 
"  I  demand  of  you,  before  this  worthy  Warden, 
access  to  the  secret  ways  of  this  mansion,  of 
which  thou  dost  unjustly  retain  possession.  I 
shall  disclose  what  for  centuries  has  remained 
hidden,  —  the  ghastly  secrets  that  this  house 
hides." 

"  Humor  him,"  whispered  the  Warden, "  and 
hereafter  I  will  take  care  that  the  exuberance 
of  our  old  friend  shall  be  duly  restrained.  He 
shall  not  trouble  you  again." 

Lord  Braithwaite,  to  say  the  truth,  appeared 
a  little  flabbergasted  and  disturbed  by  these  latter 
expressions  of  the  old  gentleman.  He  hesitated, 
turned  pale ;  but  at  last,  recovering  from  his  mo 
mentary  confusion  and  irresolution,  he  replied, 
with  apparent  carelessness:  — 

"  Go  wherever  you  will,  old  gentleman.  The 
house  is  open  to  you  for  this  time.  If  ever  you 
have  another  opportunity  to  disturb  it,  the  fault 
will  be  mine." 

"  Follow,  sir,"  said  the  pensioner,  turning  to 
the  Warden  ;  "  follow,  maiden  ! 3  Now  shall  a 
great  mystery  begin  to  be  revealed." 

So  saying,  he  led  the  way  before  them,  pass 
ing  out  of  the  hall,  not  by  the  doorway,  but 
through  one  of  the  oaken  panels  of  the  wall, 
which  admitted  the  party  into  a  passage  which 
seemed  to  pass  through  the  thickness  of  the  wall, 
377 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

and  was  lighted  by  interstices  through  which 
shone  gleams  of  light.  This  led  them  into  what 
looked  like  a  little  vestibule,  or  circular  room, 
which  the  Warden,  though  deeming  himself 
many  years  familiar  with  the  old  house,  had 
never  seen  before,  any  more  than  the  passage 
which  led  to  it.  To  his  surprise,  this  room  was 
not  vacant,  for  in  it  sat,  in  a  large  old  chair, 
Omskirk,  like  a  toad  in  its  hole,  like  some  wild, 
fearful  creature  in  its  den,  and  it  was  now  partly 
understood  how  this  man  had  the  possibility  of 
suddenly  disappearing,  so  inscrutably,  and  so  in 
a  moment ;  and,  when  all  quest  for  him  was 
given  up,  of  as  suddenly  appearing  again. 

"  Ha  !  "  said  old  Omskirk,  slowly  rising,  as 
it  the  approach  of  some  event  that  he  had  long 
expected.  "  Is  he  coming  at  last  ?  " 

"  Poor  victim  of  another's  iniquity,"  said 
the  pensioner.  "  Thy  release  approaches.  Re 
joice!" 

The  old  man  arose  with  a  sort  of  trepidation 
and  solemn  joy  intermixed  in  his  manner,  and 
bowed  reverently,  as  if  there  were  in  what  he 
heard  more  than  other  ears  could  understand 
in  it. 

"  Yes  ;  I  have  waited  long,"  replied  he. 
"  Welcome,  if  my  release  is  come." 

"  Well,"  said  Lord  Braithwaite  scornfully. 
"  This  secret  retreat  of  my  house  is  known  to 
many.  It  was  the  priest's  secret  chamber  when 

378 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

it  was  dangerous  to  be  of  the  old  and  true  re 
ligion,  here  in  England.  There  is  no  longer 
any  use  in  concealing  this  place  ;  and  the  War 
den,  or  any  man,  might  have  seen  it,  or  any  of 
the  curiosities  of  the  old  hereditary  house,  if 
desirous  so  to  do." 

"  Aha  !  son  of  Belial !  "  quoth  the  pensioner. 
"  And  this,  too  !  " 

He  took  three  paces  from  a  certain  point  of 
the  wall,  which  he  seemed  to  know,  and  stooped 
to  press  upon  the  floor.  The  Warden  looked 
at  Lord  Braithwaite',  and  saw  that  he  had  grown 
deadly  pale.  What  his  change  of  cheer  might 
bode,  he  could  not  guess  ;  but,  at  the  pressure 
of  the  old  pensioner's  finger,  the  floor,  or  a  seg 
ment  of  it,  rose  like  the  lid  of  a  box,  and  dis 
covered  a  small  darksome  pair  of  stairs,  within 
which  burned  a  lamp,  lighting  it  downward,  like 
the  steps  that  descend  into  a  sepulchre. 

"  Follow,"  said  he  to  those  who  looked  on, 
wondering. 

And  he  began  to  descend.  Lord  Braithwaite 
saw  him  disappear,  then  frantically  followed,  the 
Warden  next,  and  old  Omskirk  took  his  place 
in  the  rear,  like  a  man  following  his  inevitable 
destiny.  At  the  bottom  of  a  winding  descent, 
that  seemed  deep  and  remote,  and  far  within, 
they  came  to  a  door,  which  the  pensioner  pressed 
with  a  spring  ;  and,  passing  through  the  space 
that  disclosed  itself,  the  whole  party  followed, 
379 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

and  found  themselves  in  a  small,  gloomy  room. 
On  one  side  of  it  was  a  couch,  on  which  sat 
Redclyffe  ;  face  to  face  with  him  was  a  white- 
haired  figure  in  a  chair. 

"  You  are  come  !  "  said  Redclyffe  solemnly. 
"  But  too  late  !  " 

"  And  yonder  is  the  coffer, "  said  the  pen 
sioner.  "  Open  but  that,  and  our  quest  is 
ended." 

"  That,  if  I  mistake  not,  I  can  do,"  said  Red 
clyffe. 

He  drew  forth  —  what  lie  had  kept  all  this 
time,  as  something  that  might  yet  reveal  to  him 
the  mystery  of  his  birth  —  the  silver  key  that 
had  been  found  by  the  grave  in  far  New  Eng 
land  ;  and  applying  it  to  the  lock,  he  slowly 
turned  it  on  the  hinges,  that  had  not  been  turned 
for  two  hundred  years.  All  —  even  Lord  Braith- 
waite,  guilty  and  shame-stricken  as  he  felt  — 
pressed  forward  to  look  upon  what  was  about 
to  be  disclosed.  What  were  the  wondrous  con 
tents  ?  The  entire,  mysterious  coffer  was  full 
of  golden  ringlets,  abundant,  clustering  through 
the  whole  coffer,  and  living  with  elasticity,  so  as 
immediately,  as  it  were,  to  flow  over  the  sides 
of  the  coffer,  and  rise  in  large  abundance  from 
the  long  compression.  Into  this  —  by  a  mir 
acle  of  natural  production  which  was  known  like 
wise  in  other  cases  —  into  this  had  been  re 
solved  the  whole  bodily  substance  of  that  fair 
380 


DOCTOR  GRIMSHAWE'S  SECRET 

and  unfortunate  being,  known  so  long  in  the 
legends  of  the  family  as  the  Beauty  of  the 
Golden  Locks.  As  the  pensioner  looked  at  this 
strange  sight,  —  the  lustre  of  the  precious  and 
miraculous  hair  gleaming  and  glistening,  and 
seeming  to  add  light  to  the  gloomy  room,  — 
he  took  from  his  breast  pocket  another  lock  of 
hair,  in  a  locket,  and  compared  it,  before  their 
faces,  with  that  which  brimmed  over  from  the 
coffer. 

"  It  is  the  same  !  "  said  he. 

"  And  who  are  you  that  know  it  ?  "  asked 
Redclyffe,  surprised. 

"  He  whose  ancestors  taught  him  the  secret, 
—  who  has  had  it  handed  down  to  him  these 
two  centuries,  and  now  only  with  regret  yields 
to  the  necessity  of  making  it  known.'* 

"  You  are  the  heir  !  "  said  Redclyffe. 

In  that  gloomy  room,  beside  the  dead  old 
man,  they  looked  at  him,  and  saw  a  dignity 
beaming  on  him,  covering  his  whole  figure,  that 
broke  out  like  a  lustre  at  the  close  of  day. 

381 


NOTES 

CHAPTER  I 

1.  The  MS.  gives  the  following  alternative  open 
ings  :   "  Early  in   the  present   century ;  "  "  Soon  after 
the  Revolution;"   "Many  years  ago." 

2.  Throughout  the  first  four  pages  of  the  MS.  the 
Doctor  is  called  "Ormskirk,"  and  in  an  earlier  draft 
of  this  portion  of  the  romance,  "  Etheredge." 

3.  Author  s  note.  —  "Crusty  Hannah  is  a  mixture 
of  Indian  and  negro." 

4.  Author's  note.  —  "  It  is  understood  from  the  first 
that  the  children  are  not  brother  and  sister.  —  Describe 
the  children  with  really  childish  traits,  quarrelling,  be 
ing  naughty,  etc.  —  The  Doctor  should  occasionally 
beat  Ned  in  course  of  instruction." 

5.  In  order  to  show  the  manner  in  which  Haw 
thorne  would  modify  a  passage,  which  was  neverthe 
less  to  be  left  substantially  the  same,  I  subjoin  here  a 
description  of  this  graveyard  as  it  appears  in  the  earlier 
draft  :  "  The  graveyard  (we  are  sorry  to  have  to  treat 
of  such  a  disagreeable  piece  of  ground,  but  everybody's 
business  centres  there  at  one  time  or  another)  was  the 
most  ancient  in  the  town.     The  dust  of  the  original 
Englishmen  had  become  incorporated  with  the  soil;  of 
those  Englishmen  whose  immediate  predecessors  had 
been  resolved  into  the  earth  about  the  country  churches, 
—  the  little  Norman,  square,  battlemented  stone  towers 

383 


NOTES 

of  the  villages  in  the  old  land ;  so  that  in  this  point  of 
view,  as  holding  bones  and  dust  of  the  first  ancestors, 
this  graveyard  was  more  English  than  anything  else  in 
town.  There  had  been  hidden  from  sight  many  a 
broad,  bluff  visage  of  husbandmen  that  had  ploughed 
the  real  English  soil ;  there  the  faces  of  noted  men, 
now  known  in  history ;  there  many  a  personage  whom 
tradition  told  about,  making  wondrous  qualities  of 
strength  and  courage  for  him ;  —  all  these,  mingled 
with  succeeding  generations,  turned  up  and  battened 
down  again  with  the  sexton's  spade;  until  every  blade 
of  grass  was  human  more  than  vegetable,  —  for  an 
hundred  and  fifty  years  will  do  this,  and  so  much  time, 
at  least,  had  elapsed  since  the  first  little  mound  was 
piled  up  in  the  virgin  soil.  Old  tombs  there  were,  too, 
with  numerous  sculptures  on  them,  and  quaint,  mossy 
gravestones ;  although  all  kinds  of  monumental  ap 
pendages  were  of  a  date  more  recent  than  the  time  of 
the  first  settlers,  who  had  been  content  with  wooden 
memorials,  if  any,  the  sculptor's  art  not  having  then 
reached  New  England.  Thus  rippled,  surged,  broke 
almost  against  the  house,  this  dreary  graveyard,  which 
made  the  street  gloomy,  so  that  people  did  not  like  to 
pass  the  dark,  high  wooden  fence,  with  its  closed  gate, 
that  separated  it  from  the  street.  And  this  old  house 
was  one  that  crowded  upon  it,  and  took  up  the  ground 
that  would  otherwise  have  been  sown  as  thickly  with 
dead  as  the  rest  of  the  lot;  so  that  it  seemed  hardly 
possible  but  that  the  dead  people  should  get  up  out  of 
their  graves,  and  come  in  there  to  warm  themselves. 
But,  in  truth,  I  have  never  heard  a  whisper  of  its  being 
haunted." 

384 


NOTES 

6.  Author's  note.  —  "The  spiders  are  affected  by 
the  weather  and  serve  as  barometers.  —  It  shall  always 
be  a  moot  point  whether  the  Doctor  really  believed  in 
cobwebs,  or  was  laughing  at  the  credulous." 

7.  Author's  note. — "The  townspeople  are  at  war 
with  the  Doctor.  —  Introduce  the  Doctor  early  as  a 
smoker,  and  describe.  —  The  result  of  Crusty  Hannah's 
strangely  mixed  breed  should  be  shown  in  some  strange 
way.  —  Give  vivid  pictures  of  the  society  of  the  day, 
symbolized  in  the  street  scenes." 

CHAPTER  II 

1.  Author's  note.  —  "  Read  the  whole  paragraph  be 
fore  copying  any  of  it." 

2.  Author's  note.  —  "Crusty  Hannah  teaches  Elsie 
curious  needlework,  etc." 

3.  These  two  children  are  described  as  follows  in 
an  early  note  of  the  author's  :  "  The  boy  had  all   the 
qualities   fitted  to  excite  tenderness  in  those  who  had 
the  care  of  him ;  in  the  first  and  most  evident  place, 
on  account  of  his  personal  beauty,  which  was  very  re 
markable, —  the  most  intelligent  and  expressive  face 
that  can  be  conceived,  changing  in  those  early  years 
like  an  April  day,  and  beautiful  in  all  its  changes  ;  dark, 
but  of  a  soft  expression,  kindling,  melting,  glowing, 
laughing;  a  varied  intelligence,  which  it  was  as  good  as 
a  book  to  read.      He  was  quick  in  all  modes  of  mental 
exercise;   quick  and  strong,  too,  in  sensibility;  proud, 
and  gifted  (probably  by  the  circumstances  in  which  he 
was  placed)  with  an  energy  which  the  softness  and  im 
pressibility  of  his  nature  needed.  —  As  for  the  little 
girl,  all  the  squalor  of  the  abode  served  but  to  set  off 

385 


NOTES 

her  lightsomeness  and  brightsomeness.  She  was  a  pale, 
large-eyed  little  thing,  and  it  might  have  been  supposed 
that  the  air  of  the  house  and  the  contiguity  of  the  burial 
place  had  a  bad  effect  upon  her  health.  Yet  I  hardly 
think  this  could  have  been  the  case,  for  she  was  of  a 
very  airy  nature,  dancing  and  sporting  through  the  house 
as  if  melancholy  had  never  been  made.  She  took  all 
kinds  of  childish  liberties  with  the  Doctor,  and  with 
his  pipe,  and  with  everything  appertaining  to  him  ex 
cept  his  spiders  and  his  cobwebs." — All  of  which  goes 
to  show  that  Hawthorne  first  conceived  his  characters 
in  the  mood  of  the  Twice-Told  Tales,  and  then  by 
meditation  solidified  them  to  the  inimitable  flesh  and 
blood  of  The  House  of  the  Seven  Gables  and  The 
Blithedale  Romance. 

CHAPTER  III 

1.  An  English  church  spire,  evidently  the  proto 
type  of  this,  and  concerning  which  the  same  legend  is 
told,  is  mentioned  in  the  author's  English  Note-Books. 

2.  Leicester  Hospital,  in  Warwick,  described  in 
Our  Old  Home,  is  the  original  of  this  charity. 

3.  Author's  note. — "The  children  find  a  grave 
stone  with  something  like  a  footprint  on  it." 

4.  Author's  note.  —  "Put  into  the  Doctor's  char 
acter  a  continual  enmity  against  somebody,  breaking 
out  in  curses  of  which  nobody  can  understand  the  ap 
plication." 

CHAPTER  IV 

I.     The  Doctor's  propensity  for  cobwebs  is  ampli 
tied  in  the  following  note  for  an  earlier  and  somewhz 
386 


NOTES 

milder  version  of  the  character:  "According  to  him, 
all  science  was  to  be  renewed  and  established  on  a  sure 
ground  by  no  other  means  than  cobwebs.  The  cob 
web  was  the  magic  clue  by  which  mankind  was  to  be 
rescued  from  all  its  errors,  and  guided  safely  back  to 
the  right.  And  so  he  cherished  spiders  above  all  things, 
and  kept  them  spinning,  spinning  away ;  the  only  textile 
factory  that  existed  at  that  epoch  in  New  England. 
He  distinguished  the  production  of  each  of  his  ugly 
friends,  and  assigned  peculiar  qualities  to  each ;  and  he 
had  been  for  years  engaged  in  writing  a  work  on  this  new 
discovery,  in  reference  to  which  he  had  already  com 
piled  a  great  deal  of  folio  manuscript,  and  had  unguessed- 
at  resources  still  to  come.  With  this  suggestive  sub 
ject  he  interwove  all  imaginable  learning,  collected 
from  his  own  library,  rich  in  works  that  few  others 
had  read,  and  from  that  of  his  beloved  University, 
crabbed  with  Greek,  rich  with  Latin,  drawing  into 
itself,  like  a  whirlpool,  all  that  men  had  thought  hith 
erto,  and  combining  them  anew  in  such  a  way  that  it 
had  all  the  charm  of  a  racy  originality.  Then  he  had 
projects  for  the  cultivation  of  cobwebs,  to  which  end, 
in  the  good  Doctor's  opinion,  it  seemed  desirable  to 
devote  a  certain  part  of  the  national  income;  and  not 
content  with  this,  all  public-spirited  citizens  would 
probably  be  induced  to  devote  as  much  of  their  time 
and  means  as  they  could  to  the  same  end.  According 
to  him,  there  was  no  such  beautiful  festoon  and  drapery 
for  the  halls  of  princes  as  the  spinning  of  this  hereto 
fore  despised  and  hated  insect;  and  by  due  encourage 
ment  it  might  be  hoped  that  they  would  flourish,  and 
hang  and  dangle  and  wave  triumphant  in  the  breeze, 

387 


NOTES 

to  an  extent  as  yet  generally  undreamed  of.  And  he 
lamented  much  the  destruction  that  has  heretofore 
been  wrought  upon  this  precious  fabric  by  the  house 
maid's  broom,  and  insisted  upon  by  foolish  women  who 
claimed  to  be  good  housewives.  Indeed,  it  was  the 
general  opinion  that  the  Doctor's  celibacy  was  in  great 
measure  due  to  the  impossibility  of  rinding  a  woman 
who  would  pledge  herself  to  cooperate  with  him  in 
this  great  ambition  of  his  life,  —  that  of  reducing  the 
world  to  a  cobweb  factory  ;  or  who  would  bind  herself 
to  let  her  own  drawing-room  be  ornamented  with  this 
kind  of  tapestry.  But  there  never  was  a  wife  precisely 
fitted  for  our  friend  the  Doctor,  unless  it  had  been 
Arachne  herself,  to  whom,  if  she  could  again  have  been 
restored  to  her  female  shape,  he  would  doubtless  have 
lost  no  time  in  paying  his  addresses.  It  was  doubtless 
the  having  dwelt  too  long  among  the  musty  and  dusty 
clutter  and  litter  of  things  gone  by,  that  made  the 
Doctor  almost  a  monomaniac  on  this  subject.  There 
were  cobwebs  in  his  own  brain,  and  so  he  saw  nothing 
valuable  but  cobwebs  in  the  world  around  him;  and 
deemed  that  the  march  of  created  things,  up  to  this 
time,  had  been  calculated  by  foreknowledge  to  produce 
them." 

2.  Author's  note.  —  "Ned  must  learn  something  of 
the  characteristics  of  the  Catechism,  and  simple  cottage 
devotion." 

CHAPTER  V 

1.  Authors  note.  —  "Make  the  following   scene 
emblematic  of  the  world's  treatment  of  a  dissenter." 

2,  Author  s  note.  —  "Yankee  characteristics  should 
be  shown  in  the  schoolmaster's  manners." 


NOTES 

CHAPTER  VI 

1.  Author's  note. — "He  had  a  sort  of  horror  of 
violence,  and  of  the  strangeness  that  it  should  be  done 
to  him;  this  affected  him  more  than  the  blow." 

2.  Author's  note.  —  "Jokes  occasionally  about  the 
schoolmaster's  thinness  and  lightness,  —  how  he  might 
suspend  himself  from  the  spider's  web  and  swing,  etc." 

3.  Author's  note.  —  "  The  Doctor  and  the  school 
master  should  have  much  talk  about  England." 

4.  Author's  note.  —  "The  children  were  at  play  in 
the  churchyard." 

5.  Authors   note.  —  "He   mentions   that    he  was 
probably  buried  in  the  churchyard  there." 

CHAPTER  VII 

1 .  Author's  note.  —  "  Perhaps  put  this  narratively, 
not  as  spoken." 

2.  Author's  note.  —  "He  was  privately  married  to 
the  heiress,  if  she  were  an  heiress.     They  meant  to 
kill  him  in  the  wood,  but,  by  contrivance,  he  was  kid 
napped." 

3.  Author's  note.  —  "  They  were  privately  married." 

4.  Author  s  note.  —  "Old  descriptive  letters,  refer 
ring  to  localities  as  they  existed." 

5.  Author  s  note,  —  "There  should  be  symbols  and 
tokens,   hinting  at  the  schoolmaster's  disappearance, 
from  the  first  opening  of  the  scene." 

CHAPTER  VIII 

I.     Author's  note.  —  "They  had  got  up  in  remarka 
bly  good  case  that  morning." 

389 


NOTES 

2.  Author's  note.  —  "The  stranger  may  be  the  fu 
ture  master  of  the  Hospital.  —  Describe  the  winter 
day." 

3.  Author's  note.  —  "Describe  him  as  clerical." 

4.  Author's  note.  —  "Represent  him  as  a  refined, 
agreeable,  genial  young  man,  of  frank,  kindly,  gentle 
manly  manners." 

5.  Alternative  reading:  "A  clergyman." 

CHAPTER  IX 

1.  Author's  note.  —  "Make  the  old  grave-digger  a 
laudator  temporis  acti,  —  especially  as  to  burial  customs." 

2.  Instead  of  "written,"  as  in  the  text,  the  author 
probably  meant  to  write  "  read." 

3.  The  MS.  has  "delight,"  but  "a  light"  is  evi 
dently  intended. 

4.  Author's  note.  —  "  He  aims  a  blow,  perhaps  with 
his  pipe,  at  the  boy,  which  Ned  wards  off." 

CHAPTER  X 

1.  Author  s  note.  —  "  No  longer  could  play  at  quar- 
terstaff  with  Ned." 

2.  Author  s  note.  —  "Referring  to  places  and  peo 
ple  in  England:  the  Bloody  Footstep  sometimes." 

3.  In  the  original  the  following  occurs,  but  marked 
to  indicate  that  it  was  to  be  omitted  :  "And  kissed  his 
hand  to  her,  and  laughed  feebly;  and  that  was  the  last 
that  she  or  anybody,  the  last  glimpse  they  had  of  Doc 
tor  Grimshawe  alive." 

4.  Author's  notes.  —  "A  great  deal  must  be  made 
out  of  the  spiders,  and  their  gloomy,  dusky,  flaunting 

390 


NOTES 

tapestry.  A  web  across  the  orifice  of  his  inkstand 
every  morning;  everywhere,  indeed,  except  across  the 
snout  of  his  brandy  bottle.  —  Depict  the  Doctor  in  an 
old  dressing  gown,  and  a  strange  sort  of  a  cap,  like  a 
wizard's.  —  The  two  children  are  witnesses  of  many 
strange  experiments  in  the  study ;  they  see  his  moods, 
too.  —  The  Doctor  is  supposed  to  be  writing  a  work 
on  the  Natural  History  of  Spiders.  Perhaps  he  used 
them  as  a  blind  for  his  real  project,  and  used  to  bam 
boozle  the  learned  with  pretending  to  read  them  pas 
sages  in  which  great  learning  seemed  to  be  elaborately 
worked  up,  crabbed  with  Greek  and  Latin,  as  if  the 
topic  drew  into  itself,  like  a  whirlpool,  all  that  men 
thought  and  knew;  plans  to  cultivate  cobwebs  on  a 
large  scale.  Sometimes,  after  overwhelming  them  with 
astonishment  in  this  way,  he  would  burst  into  one  of 
his  laughs.  Schemes  to  make  the  world  a  cobweb 
factory,  etc.,  etc.  Cobwebs  in  his  own  brain.  —  Crusty 
Hannah  such  a  mixture  of  persons  and  races  as  could 
be  found  only  at  a  seaport.  There  was  a  rumor  that 
the  Doctor  had  murdered  a  former  maid,  for  having, 
with  housewifely  instinct,  swept  away  the  cobwebs ; 
some  said  that  he  had  her  skeleton  in  a  closet.  Some 
said  that  he  had  strangled  a  wife  with  web  of  the  great 
spider.  —  Read  the  description  of  Bolton  Hall,  the 
garden,  lawn,  etc.,  Aug.  8,  '53.  —  Bebbington  church 
and  churchyard,  Aug.  29,  '53.  —  The  Doctor  is  able 
to  love,  —  able  to  hate;  two  great  and  rare  abilities 
nowadays.  —  Introduce  two  pine-trees,  ivy-grown,  as  at 
Lowwood  Hotel,  July  16,  '58.  —  The  family  name 
might  be  Redclyffe.  —  Thatched  cottage,  June  22,  '55. 
391 


NOTES 

—  Early  introduce  the  mention  of  the  cognizance  of 
the  family,  —  the  Leopard's  Head,  for  instance,  in  the 
first  part  of  the  romance  ;  the  Doctor  may  have  pos 
sessed  it  engraved  as  coat  of  arms  in  a  book.  —  The 
Doctor  shall  show  Ned,  perhaps,  a  drawing  or  engrav 
ing  of  the  Hospital,  with  figures  of  the  pensioners  in  the 
quadrangle,  fitly  dressed ;  and  this  picture  and  the  fig 
ures  shall  impress  themselves  strongly  on  his  memory." 
The  above  dates  and  places  refer  to  passages  in  the 
published  English  Note-Books. 

CHAPTER  XI 

1.  Author's   note.  —  "Compare  it   with    Spenser's 
Cave  of  Despair.     Put  instruments  of  suicide  there." 

2.  Author's  note.  —  "  Once,  in  looking  at  the  man 
sion,  RedclyfFe  is  struck  by  the  appearance  of  a  marble 
inserted  into  the  wall,  and  kept  clear  of  lichens." 

3.  Author's  note.  —  "Describe,  in  rich  poetry,  all 
shapes  of  deadly  things." 

CHAPTER  XII 

1.  Author's  note.  —  "'Conferred  their  best  quali 
ties  :  *  an  alternative  phrase  for  c  done  their  utmost." 

2.  Author1  note.  — "  Let  the  old  man  have  a  beard 
as  part  of  the  costume." 

CHAPTER  XIII 

1 .  Author  s  note.  —  "  Describe  him  as  delirious,  and 
the  scene  as  adopted  into  his  delirium." 

2.  Author  s  note.  —  "Make  the  whole  scene  very 
dreamlike  and  feverish." 

3.  Author's  note.  —  "  There  should  be  a  slight  wild- 

392 


NOTES 

ness  in  the  patient's  remark  to  the  surgeon,  which  he 
cannot  prevent,  though  he  is  conscious  of  it." 

4.  Author's  note.  —  "Notice  the  peculiar  depth  and 
intelligence  of  his  eyes,  on  account  of  his  pain   and 
sickness." 

5.  Author's  note.  —  "  Perhaps  the  recognition  of  the 
pensioner  should  not  be  so  decided.      Redclyffe  thinks 
it  is  he,  but  thinks  it  as  in  a  dream,  without  wonder  or 
inquiry  ;  and  the  pensioner  does  not  quite  acknowledge 
it." 

6.  The  following  dialogue  is  marked  to  be  omitted 
or  modified  in  the  original  MS. ;  but  it  is  retained  here, 
in  order  that  the  thread  of  the  narrative  may  not  be 
broken. 

7.  Author's  note.  —  "The  patient,  as  he  gets  better, 
listens  to  the  feet  of  old  people  moving  in  corridors  ;  to 
the  ringing  of  a  bell  at  stated  periods ;  to  old,  tremu 
lous  voices  talking  in  the  quadrangle ;  etc.,  etc." 

8.  At  this  point  the  modification  indicated  in  Note 
5  seems  to   have  been  made  operative,  and  the  recog 
nition  takes  place  in  another  way. 

CHAPTER  XIV 

1.  This  paragraph  is  left  incomplete  in  the  original 
MS. 

2.  The  words  "  Rich  old  bindings"  are  interlined 
here,  indicating,  perhaps,  a  purpose  to  give  a  more  de 
tailed  description  of  the  library  and  its  contents. 

CHAPTER  XV 

I.     Author's  note.  —  "I  think  it  shall  be  built  of 
stone,  however." 

393 


NOTES 

2.  This  probably  refers  to  some  incident  which 
the  author  intended  to  incorporate  in  the  former  por 
tion  of  the  romance,  on  a  final  revision. 

CHAPTER  XVI 

I.  Several  passages,  which  are  essentially  repro 
ductions  of  what  had  been  previously  treated,  are 
omitted  from  this  chapter.  It  belongs  to  an  earlier 
version  of  the  romance. 

CHAPTER  XVII 

1.  Author's  note.  —  u  Redclyffe  shows  how  to  find, 
under  the  surface  of  the  village  green,  an  old  cross." 

2.  Author's   note.  —  "A   circular   seat  around   the 
tree." 

3.  The  reader  now  hears  for  the  first  time  what 
RedclyfFe  recollected. 

CHAPTER  XVIII 

1.  Author's  note.  —  "The  dinner  is  given  to  the 
pensioners,  as  well  as  to  the  gentry,  I  think." 

2.  Author's  note.  —  "  For  example,  a  story  of  three 
brothers,  who  had  a  deadly  quarrel  among  them  more 
than  two  hundred  years  ago   for  the   affections   of  a 
young  lady,  their  cousin,  who  gave  her  reciprocal  love 
to  one  of  them,  who  immediately  became  the  object  of 
the  deadly  hatred  of  the  two  others.      There  seemed 
to  be  madness  in  their  love,  —  perhaps  madness  in  the 
love  of  all  three ;  for  the  result  had  been  a  plot  to  kid 
nap  this  unfortunate  young  man  and  convey  him  to 
America,  where  he  was  sold  for  a  servant." 

394 


NOTES 

CHAPTER  XIX 

I.  The  following  passage,  though  it  seems  to  fit 
in  here  chronologically,  is  concerned  with  a  side  issue 
which  was  not  followed  up.  The  author  was  experi 
menting  for  a  character  to  act  as  the  accomplice  of 
Lord  Braithwaite  at  the  Hall ;  and  he  makes  trial  of 
the  present  personage,  Mountford  ;  of  an  Italian  priest, 
Father  Angelo  ;  and  finally,  of  the  steward,  Omskirk, 
who  is  adopted.  It  will  be  noticed  that  Mountford  is 
here  endowed  (for  the  moment)  with  the  birthright  of 
good  Doctor  Hammond,  the  Warden.  He  is  repre 
sented  as  having  made  the  journey  to  America  in  search 
of  the  grave.  This  alteration  being  inconsistent  with 
the  true  thread  of  the  story,  and  being,  moreover,  not 
continued,  I  have  placed  this  passage  in  the  Notes  in- 
siead  of  in  the  text. 

REDCLYFFE  often,  in  the  dim  weather,  when  the 
prophetic  intimations  of  rain  were  too  strong  to  allow 
an  American  to  walk  abroad  with  peace  of  mind,  was 
in  the  habit  of  pacing  this  noble  hall,  and  watching  the 
process  of  renewal  and  adornment ;  or,  which  suited 
him  still  better,  of  enjoying  its  great,  deep  solitude  when 
the  workmen  were  away.  Parties  of  visitors,  curious 
tourists,  sometimes  peeped  in,  took  a  cursory  glimpse 
at  the  old  hall,  and  went  away  :  these  were  the  only 
ordinary  disturbances.  But,  one  day,  a  person  entered, 
looked  carelessly  round  the  hall,  as  if  its  antiquity  had 
no  great  charm  to  him;  then  he  seemed  to  approach 
Redclyffe,  who  stood  far  and  dim  in  the  remote  distance 
395 


NOTES 

of  the  great  room.  The  echoing  of  feet  on  the  stone 
pavement  of  the  hall  had  always  an  impressive  sound, 
and  turning  his  head  towards  the  visitant  Edward  stood 
as  if  there  were  an  expectance  for  him  in  this  approach. 
It  was  a  middle-aged  man,  —  rather,  a  man  towards 
fifty,  with  an  alert,  capable  air ;  a  man  evidently  with 
something  to  do  in  life,  and  not  in  the  habit  of  throw 
ing  away  his  moments  in  looking  at  old  halls  ;  a  gentle 
manly  man  enough,  too.  He  approached  Redclyffe 
without  hesitation,  and,  lifting  his  hat,  addressed  him 
in  a  way  that  made  Edward  wonder  whether  he  could 
be  an  Englishman.  If  so,  he  must  have  known  that 
Edward  was  an  American,  and  have  been  trying  to 
adapt  his  manners  to  those  of  a  democratic  free 
dom. 

"Mr.  Redclyffe,  I  believe,"  said  he. 

Redclyffe  bowed,  with  the  stiff  caution  of  an  English 
man  ;  for,  with  American  mobility,  he  had  learned  to 
be  stiff. 

"I  think  I  have  had  the  pleasure  of  knowing  —  at 
least  of  meeting  —  you  very  long  ago,"  said  the  gentle 
man.  u  But  I  see  you  do  not  recollect  me." 

Redclyffe  confessed  that  the  stranger  had  the  advan 
tage  of  him  in  his  recollection  of  a  previous  acquaint 
ance. 

"  No  wonder,"  said  the  other,  "  for,  as  I  have  already 
hinted,  it  was  many  years  ago." 

"  In  my  own  country,  then,  of  course,"  said  Red 
clyffe. 

"  In  your  own  country  certainly,"  said  the  stranger, 
"  and  when  it  would  have  required  a  penetrating  eye 
to  see  the  distinguished  Mr.  Redclyffe,  the  representa- 
396 


NOTES 

tive  of  American  democracy  abroad,  in  the  little  pale- 
faced,  intelligent  boy,  dwelling  with  an  old  humorist  in 
the  corner  of  a  graveyard." 

At  these  words  Redclyffe  sent  back  his  recollections, 
and,  though  doubtfully,  began  to  be  aware  that  this 
must  needs  be  the  young  Englishman  who  had  come  to 
his  guardian  on  such  a  singular  errand  as  to  search  an 
old  grave.  It  must  be  he,  for  it  could  be  nobody  else ; 
and,  in  truth,  he  had  a  sense  of  his  identity,  —  which, 
however,  did  not  express  itself  by  anything  that  he 
could  confidently  remember  in  his  looks,  manner,  or 
voice,  —  yet,  if  anything,  it  was  most  in  the  voice.  But 
the  image  which,  on  searching,  he  found  in  his  mind  of 
a  fresh-colored  young  Englishman,  with  light  hair  and  a 
frank,  pleasant  face,  was  terribly  realized  for  the  worse 
in  this  somewhat  heavy  figure,  and  coarser  face,  and 
heavier  eye.  In  fact,  there  is  a  terrible  difference  be 
tween  the  mature  Englishman  and  the  young  man  who 
is  not  yet  quite  out  of  his  blossom.  His  hair,  too,  was 
getting  streaked  and  sprinkled  with  gray ;  and,  in  short, 
there  were  evident  marks  of  his  having  worked,  and 
succeeded,  and  failed,  and  eaten  and  drunk,  and  being 
made  largely  of  beef,  ale,  port,  and  sherry,  and  all  the 
solidities  of  English  life. 

"  I  remember  you  now,"  said  Redclyffe,  extending 
his  hand  frankly  ;  and  yet  Mountford  took  it  in  so  cold 
a  way  that  he  was  immediately  sorry  that  he  had  done 
it,  and  called  up  an  extra  portion  of  reserve  to  freeze 
the  rest  of  the  interview.  He  continued,  coolly  enough : 
"I  remember  you,  and  something  of  your  American 
errand,  —  which,  indeed,  has  frequently  been  in  my 
mind  since.  I  hope  you  found  the  results  of  your 
397 


NOTES 

voyage,  in  the  way  of  discovery,  sufficiently  successful 
to  justify  so  much  trouble." 

"  You  will  remember,"  said  Mountford,  "  that  the 
grave  proved  quite  unproductive.  Yes,  you  will  not 
have  forgotten  it  ;  for  I  well  recollect  how  eagerly  you 
listened,  with  that  queer  little  girl,  to  my  talk  with  the 
old  governor,  and  how  disappointed  you  seemed  when 
you  found  that  the  grave  was  not  to  be  opened.  And 
yet,  it  is  very  odd.  I  failed  in  that  mission  ;  and  yet 
there  are  circumstances  that  have  led  me  to  think  that 
I  ought  to  have  succeeded  better,  —  that  some  other 
person  has  really  succeeded  better." 

Redclyffe  was  silent ;  but  he  remembered  the  strange 
old  silver  key,  and  how  he  had  kept  it  secret,  and  the 
doubts  that  had  troubled  his  mind  then  and  long  after 
wards,  whether  he  ought  not  to  have  found  means 
to  convey  it  to  the  stranger,  and  ask  whether  that  was 
what  he  sought.  And  now  here  was  that  same  doubt 
and  question  coming  up  again,  and  he  found  himself 
quite  as  little  able  to  solve  it  as  he  had  been  twenty 
years  ago.  Indeed,  with  the  views  that  had  come  up 
since,  it  behooved  him  to  be  cautious,  until  he  knew 
both  the  man  and  the  circumstances. 

"You  are  probably  aware,"  continued  Mountford, 
— "  for  I  understand  you  have  been  some  time  in  this 
neighborhood,  —  that  there  is  a  pretended  claim,  a  con 
testing  claim,  to  the  present  possession  of  the  estate 
of  Braithwaite,  and  a  long  dormant  title.  Possibly  — 
who  knows?  —  you  yourself  might  have  a  claim  to 
one  or  the  other.  Would  not  that  be  a  singular  co 
incidence  ?  Have  you  ever  had  the  curiosity  to  inves 
tigate  your  parentage  with  a  view  to  this  point  ? " 

398 


NOTES 

"The  title,"  replied  Redclyffe,  "ought  not  to  be  a 
very  strong  consideration  with  an  American.  One  of 
us  would  be  ashamed,  I  verily  believe,  to  assume  anv 
distinction,  except  such  as  may  be  supposed  to  indicate 
personal,  not  hereditary  merit.  We  have  in  some 
measure,  I  think,  lost  the  feeling  of  the  past,  and  even 
of  the  future,  as  regards  our  own  lines  of  descent ;  and 
even  as  to  wealth,  it  seems  to  me  that  the  idea  of  heap 
ing  up  a  pile  of  gold,  or  accumulating  a  broad  estate 
for  our  children  and  remoter  descendants,  is  dying  out. 
We  wish  to  enjoy  the  fulness  of  our  success  in  life 
ourselves,  and  leave  to  those  who  descend  from  us  the 
task  of  providing  for  themselves.  This  tendency  is 
seen  in  our  lavish  expenditure  and  the  whole  arrange 
ment  of  our  lives ;  and  it  is  slowly  —  yet  not  very 
slowly,  either  —  effecting  a  change  in  the  whole 
economy  of  American  life." 

"Still,"  rejoined  Mr.  Mountford,  with  a  smile  that 
Redclyffe  fancied  was  dark  and  subtle,  "  still,  I  should 
imagine  that  even  an  American  might  recall  so  much  of 
hereditary  prejudice  as  to  be  sensible  of  some  earthly 
advantages  in  the  possession  of  an  ancient  title  and 
hereditary  estate  like  this.  Personal  distinction  may 
suit  you  better,  —  to  be  an  Ambassador  by  your  own 
talent ;  to  have  a  future  for  yourself,  involving  the 
possibility  of  ranking  (though  it  were  only  for  four 
years)  among  the  acknowledged  sovereigns  of  the  earth  ; 
—  this  is  very  good.  But  if  the  silver  key  would  open 
the  shut-up  secret  to-day,  it  might  be  possible  that  you 
would  relinquish  these  advantages." 

Before  Redclyffe  could  reply  (and,  indeed,  there 
seemed  to  be  an  allusion  at  the  close  of  Mountford's 
399 


NOTES 

speech  which,  whether  intended  or  not,  he  knew  not 
how  to  reply  to)  a  young  lady  entered  the  hall,  whom 
he  was  at  no  loss,  by  the  colored  light  of  a  painted 
window  that  fell  upon  her,  translating  her  out  of  the 
common  daylight,  to  recognize  as  the  relative  of  the 
pensioner.  She  seemed  to  have  come  to  give  her  fanciful 
superintendence  to  some  of  the  decorations  of  the  hall  ; 
such  as  required  woman's  taste,  rather  than  the  sturdy 
English  judgment  and  antiquarian  knowledge  of  the 
Warden.  Slowly  following  after  her  came  the  pen 
sioner  himself,  leaning  on  his  staff,  and  looking  up  at 
the  old  roof  and  around  him  with  a  benign  composure, 
and  himself  a  fitting  figure  by  his  antique  and  venerable 
appearance  to  walk  in  that  old  hall. 

"Ah!"  said  Mountford,  to  Redclyffe's  surprise, 
"here  is  an  acquaintance,  two  acquaintances  of  mine." 

He  moved  along  the  hall  to  accost  them  ;  and  as  he 
appeared  to  expect  that  Redclyffe  would  still  keep  him 
company,  and  as  the  latter  had  no  reason  for  not  doing 
so,  they  both  advanced  to  the  pensioner,  who  was  now 
leaning  on  the  young  woman's  arm.  The  incident, 
too,  was  not  unacceptable  to  the  American,  as  promis 
ing  to  bring  him  into  a  more  available  relation  with 
her  —  whom  he  half  fancied  to  be  his  old  American 
acquaintance  —  than  he  had  yet  succeeded  in  obtaining. 

"  Well,  my  old  friend,"  said  Mountford,  after  bowing 
with  a  certain  measured  respect  to  the  young  woman, 
"  how  wears  life  with  you  ?  Rather,  perhaps,  it  does 
not  wear  at  all ;  you  being  so  well  suited  to  the  life 
around  you,  you  2;row  by  it  like  a  lichen  on  a  wall.  I 
could  fancy  now  that  you  have  walked  here  for  three 
hundred  years,  and  remember  when  King  James  of 
400 


NOTES 

blessed  memory  was  entertained  in  this  hall,  and  could 
marshal  out  all  the  ceremonies  just  as  they  were  then." 

"  An  old  man,"  said  the  pensioner  quietly,  "  grows 
dreamy  as  he  wanes  away  ;  and  I,  too,  am  sometimes 
at  a  loss  to  know  whether  I  am  living  in  the  past  or 
the  present,  or  whereabouts  in  time  I  am,  —  or  whether 
there  is  any  time  at  all.  But  I  should  think  it  hardly 
worth  while  to  call  up  one  of  my  shifting  dreams  more 
than  another." 

"  I  confess,"  said  Redclyffe,  "  I  shall  find  it  im 
possible  to  call  up  this  scene  —  any  of  these  scenes  — 
hereafter,  without  the  venerable  figure  of  this,  whom  I 
may  truly  call  my  benefactor,  among  them-.  I  fancy 
him  among  them  from  the  foundation,  —  young  then, 
but  keeping  just  the  equal  step  with  their  age  and  decay, 
—  and  still  doing  good  and  hospitable  deeds  to  those 
who  need  them." 

The  old  man  seemed  not  to  like  to  hear  these  remarks 
and  expressions  of  gratitude  from  Mountford  and  the 
American  ;  at  any  rate,  he  moved  away  with  his  slow 
and  light  motion  of  infirmity,  but  then  came  uneasily 
back,  displaying  a  certain  quiet  restlessness,  which  Red 
clyffe  was  sympathetic  enough  to  perceive.  Not  so  the 
sturdier,  more  heavily  moulded  Englishman,  who  con 
tinued  to  direct  the  conversation  upon  the  pensioner, 
or  at  least  to  make  him  a  part  of  it,  thereby  bringing  out 
more  of  his  strange  characteristics.  In  truth,  it  is  not 
quite  easy  for  an  Englishman  to  know  how  to  adapt 
himself  to  the  fine  feelings  of  those  below  him  in  point 
of  station,  whatever  gentlemanly  deference  he  may  have 
for  his  equals  or  superiors. 

"  I  should  like  now,  father  pensioner,"  said  he,  "  to 
401 


NOTES 

know  how  many  steps  you  may  have  taken  in  life 
before  your  path  led  into  this  hole,  and  whence  your 
course  started.'' 

"  Do  not  let  him  speak  thus  to  the  old  man,"  said 
the  young  woman,  in  a  low,  earnest  tone,  to  Redclyffe. 
He  was  surprised  and  startled ;  it  seemed  like  a  voice 
that  had  spoken  to  his  boyhood. 

2.  Author's  note.  —  "  Redclyffe's  place  is  next  to 
that  of  the  proprietor  at  table." 

3.  Author's  note.  —  "  Dwell  upon  the  antique  liv 
eried  servants  somewhat." 

4.  Author's  note.  —  "  The  rose-water  must  precede 
the  toasts." 

5.  Author's  note.  —  "  The  jollity  of  the  Warden  at 
the  feast  to  be  noticed ;  and  afterwards  explain  that  he 
had  drunk  nothing." 

6.  Author's  note.  —  "  Mention  the  old  silver  snuff 
box  which  I  saw  at  the  Liverpool  Mayor's  dinner." 

CHAPTER  XX 

1.  This  is  not  the  version  of  the  story  as  indicated 
in   the   earlier  portion   of  the   romance.       It  is  there 
implied  that   Elsie  is  the  Doctor's  granddaughter,  her 
mother  having  been  the  Doctor's   daughter,  who  was 
ruined  by  the  then  possessor  of  the  Braithwaite  estates, 
and  who  died   in   consequence.      That   the   Doctor's 
scheme  of  revenge  was  far  deeper  and  more  terrible 
than  simply  to  oust  the  family  from  its  possessions  will 
appear  further  on. 

2.  The  foregoing  passage  was  evidently  experi 
mental,  and  the  author  expresses  his  estimate  of  its 

402 


NOTES 

value  in  the  following  words,  —  "  What  unimaginable 
nonsense!  "  He  then  goes  on  to  make  the  following 
memoranda  as  to  the  plot.  It  should  be  remembered, 
however,  that  all  this  part  of  the  romance  was  written 
before  the  American  part. 

u  Half  of  a  secret  is  preserved  in  England, —  that  is 
to  say,  in  the  particular  part  of  the  mansion  in  which 
an  old  coffer  is  hidden  ;  the  other  part  is  carried  to 
America;  One  key  of  an  elaborate  lock  is  retained  in 
England,  among  some  old  curiosities  of  forgotten  pur 
pose  ;  the  other  is  the  silver  key  that  Redclyffe  found 
beside  the  grave.  A  treasure  of  gold  is  what  they  ex 
pect  ;  they  find  a  treasure  of  golden  locks.  This  lady, 
the  beloved  of  the  Bloody  Footstep,  had  been  murdered 
and  hidden  in  the  coffer  on  account  of  jealousy.  Elsie 
must  know  the  baselessness  of  Redclyffe's  claims,  and 
be  loath  to  tell  him,  because  she  sees  that  he  is  so  much 
interested  in  them.  She  has  a  paper  of  the  old  Doc 
tor's  revealing  the  whole  plot,  —  a  deathbed  confes 
sion  ;  Redclyffe  having  been  absent  at  the  time." 

The  reader  will  recollect  that  this  latter  suggestion 
was  not  adopted  :  there  was  no  deathbed  confession. 
As  regards  the  coffer  full  of  golden  locks,  it  was  sug 
gested  by  an  incident  recorded  in  the  English  Note- 
Books,  1854.  "The  grandmother  of  Mrs.  O'Sulli- 
van  died  fifty  years  ago,  at  the  age  of  twenty-eight. 
She  had  great  personal  charms,  and  among  them  a  head 
of  beautiful  chestnut  hair.  After  her  burial  in  a  fam 
ily  tomb,  the  coffin  of  one  of  her  children  was  laid  on 
her  own,  so  that  the  lid  seems  to  have  decayed,  or  been 
broken  from  this  cause  ;  at  any  rate,  this  was  the  case 
when  the  tomb  was  opened,  about  a  year  ago.  The 
403 


NOTES 

grandmother's  coffin  was  then  found  to  be  filled  with 
beautiful,  glossy,  living  chestnut  ringlets,  into  which 
her  whole  substance  seems  to  have  been  transformed, 
for  there  was  nothing  else  but  these  shining  curls,  the 
growth  of  half  a  century,  in  the  tomb.  An  old  man, 
with  a  ringlet  of  his  youthful  mistress  treasured  in  his 
heart,  might  be  supposed  to  witness  this  wonderful 
thing." 

CHAPTER  XXIII 

i.  In  a  study  of  the  plot,  too  long  to  insert  here, 
this  new  character  of  the  steward  is  introduced  and 
described.  It  must  suffice  to  say,  in  this  place,  that 
he  was  intimately  connected  with  Doctor  Grimshawe, 
who  had  resuscitated  him  after  he  had  been  hanged,  and 
had  thus  gained  his  gratitude  and  secured  his  implicit 
obedience  to  his  wishes,  even  twenty  years  after  his 
(Grimshawe's)  death.  The  use  the  Doctor  made  of 
him  was  to  establish  him  in  Braithwaite  Hall  as  the 
perpetual  confidential  servant  of  the  owners  thereof. 
Of  course,  the  latter  are  not  aware  that  the  steward  is 
acting  in  Grimshawe's  interest,  and  therefore  in  deadly 
opposition  to  their  own.  Precisely  what  the  steward's 
mission  in  life  was  will  appear  hereafter. 

The  study  above  alluded  to,  with  others,  amounting 
10  about  a  hundred  pages,  will  be  published  as  a  sup 
plement  to  a  future  edition  of  this  work. 

CHAPTER  XXIV 

I.  Author's  note. — "  RedclyfFe  lies  in  a  dreamy 
state,  thinking  fantastically,  as  if  he  were  one  of  the 
seven  sleepers.  He  does  not  yet  open  his  eyes,  but 
lies  there  in  a  maze." 

404 


NOTES 

2.  Author's  note.  —  "  Redclyffe  must  look  at  the 
old  man  quietly  and  dreamily,  and  without  surprise, 
for  a  long  while." 

3.  Presumably  the  true  name  of   Doctor  Grim- 
shawe. 

4.  This   mysterious    prisoner,   Sir    Edward    Red- 
clyffe,  is  not,  of  course,  the  Sir  Edward  who  founded 
the  Hospital,  but  a  descendant  of  that  man,  who  ruined 
Doctor  Grimshawe's  daughter,  and   is   the   father  of 
Elsie.      He  had  been  confined  in  this  chamber,  by  the 
Doctor's  contrivance,  ever  since,  Omskirk  being  his 
jailer,  as  is  foreshadowed  in   Chapter  XI.      He  has 
been  kept  in  the  belief  that  he  killed  Grimshawe,  in  a 
struggle  that  took  place  between  them  ;   and  that  his 
confinement  in  the  secret  chamber  is  voluntary  on  his 
own  part, —  a  measure  of  precaution  to  prevent  arrest 
and  execution  for  murder.     In  this  miserable  delusion 
he  has  cowered  there   for  five  and  thirty  years.      This 
and  various  other  dusky  points  are  partly  elucidated  in 
the  notes  hereafter  to  be  appended  to  this  volume. 

CHAPTER  XXV 

1.  At  this  point,  the  author,  for  what  reason  I  will 
not  venture  to  surmise,  chooses  to  append  this  gloss  : 
u  Bubble-and-Squeak ! " 

2.  Author  s  note.  —  "  They  found  him  in  the  hall 
about  to  go  out." 

3.  Elsie  appears  to  have  joined  the  party. 

405 


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